The Past Never Dies
by autumn0587
Summary: Derek gets a second chance at a relationship with someone from his past. "The one he never stop loving. His wife..."
1. Prolouge

**PROLOUGE:**

_A/N: This is my fanfic, so please review to help me write better. Be kind but truthful please! I'll try to update soon as I can. Also, this is slightly AU. Derek's wife dies sometime early than when Kyle gets sent back, so Derek meeting Jesse and all still happens. This story just takes place sometime in the future in the show._

He always that Conner sent him back to give him time with what little family he had left. Or maybe he sent Derek to help mold this teenage Conner into tough s.o.b General that he is (or is it "was"? Time travel sure fucked with the mind) in the future. But he never imagined that Conner was trying to give him a gift. Time with one he lost. The one whose loss, coupled with Kyle's, drove him to almost committing suicide. The one he never stopped loving even after all this time. His wife…


	2. Chapter 1: Ritual

**CHAPTER 1: RITUAL**

_A/N: If anyone wants a song that sets the mood for this chapter, during the first half try "I Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot. I think it fits well. Not very Derek-like, but hey, who cares. During the last part listen to "Shattered" by ?. This happens before he meets the Connors, back when he was still living at the safe house he was sent back with._

**LOCATION/ TIME**: LA / 2006

This was one of his favorite things to do during his free time, besides being with Jesse and watching his younger self playing with kid-Kyle in the park. Unlike with Kyle and young-self, he hadn't gone looking for her—she just happened to cross his path. He had gone to buy beer at the local store when he spotted her at the cash register ringing up groceries. It was such a shock to his system, seeing her then when he least expected. He just froze and stood there for a full minute, just watching her being… _alive_.

He had forgotten how she looked, her laugh. He hated admitting it. Her fading memory was what had gotten to him the most after her death. The color of her eyes was the first to go, her smile next, until slowly only her most prominent feature, her dimples, remained in his memory. Those dimples always gave her an illusion of always smiling, even on the rare occasions when she cried. It was what he had first fallen in love with. Though her face and voice faded, her personality was seared in mind. He remembered how much of a the-glass-is-half-full kind of person she was, always finding the good everything. Not enough food? At least she wouldn't need to watch her calorie intake anymore. Can't move around in the daylight? No more worrying about getting skin cancer. How where ever she went she always made everyone laugh, as if her mere breathe was made of laughing gas.

So he stood there recommitting her every curve to memory—this time he swore he wouldn't forget—until he got enough courage to get into her line. He was almost in line until he remembered she hated alcohol, saying a clouded mind could get you nowhere but dead. It's not like she knew who he is yet, but still Derek wanted to leave a good impression. He hurried to put the case of beer back, and grabbed a gallon of ice cream instead. Nothing says "hey, I'm a friendly guy" like ice cream. Even though hers was the longest checkout lane in the store, he got in line. He would wait in a line a mile long for her. Anything for her.

It took another fifteen minutes of waiting until it was his turn. He put the gallon of ice cream on the conveyor belt, and stared as she said bye to her previous customer. She kept glancing at him with a questioning look on her. She looked so happy, even though she was obviously tired. He was surprised at how young she looked; until it hit him that she would be only about sixteen in this time period. It was so weird to see her younger than him for once. In the past (future?), she was five years older than him, not that it mattered to either of them. Finally, with a renewed smile, she turned to him.

"Hi, my name Mel. I'll be cashier today. Did you find everything you needed?" she asked as she scanned the carton.

He just continued looking at her. Hazel. Her eyes were hazel. Green with blotches of brown. They reminded him of the earth and trees at a time when they were all but extinct.

"_Hello_?" she waved a hand in front of his face. "Is anybody there? You know it's rude to stare," she said with a laugh.

"What?" Derek said as he was snapped back to the present by her laugh. It was all bells. "Sorry, guess I spaced out a bit."

With another laugh she continued, "Happens. I'm guessing that's why you're buying ice cream—to give your body a sugar shock to the system. Jolt you awake. So, will that be all?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"All-righty then, that's gonna be $5.75."

As he reached into his pocket for the money, he tried to think of a way to prolong the conversation. He didn't want to stop talking to her just yet. Giving her the exact change, he said, "By the way, my name is Der—Daren." He changed his name at the last minute when he realized he couldn't risk the chance of her putting two and two together in the future. If she ever did figure it out, it would jeopardize the mission.

"Well," she said eying the already long line of customers behind him, "it was nice meeting you Daren. Have a wonderful day!"

With that she turned to the next customer. Derek stood there for another minute before sighing and shuffling off toward his brand-new, stolen truck. He stopped and took one last long look at Mel before exiting the store. When he got into his truck, he couldn't help it; he broke down and started to sob. Seeing Mel again brought back all the pain he felt when he lost her. It was too much to bear. Along with the pain and the memories of losing her, the event brought up the pain of losing Kyle too. Both their deaths were so close together, with Mel dying only six months before Kyle. Just then a searing hatred of Connor filled him, almost blocking the anguish felt over the two deaths. It was his fault they were both dead! All Connor's fault! Connor sent the people Derek loved most in the world to their deaths without a bit of thought! He couldn't stand just taking Mel, but he had to kill Kyle too! That fucking BASTARD! He gripped the wheel, shaking it and screaming for all he was worth, imagining the wheel was Connor's neck. He suddenly froze. No, he thought, he couldn't go through this again. His past experiences with this downward spiral were too much back then, almost pushing him to the brink. He couldn't—_wouldn't_ go there again. He took a deep breath, and tried to settle down again. After a few minutes, he shifting the gear into reverse, backed out, and drove away from the store's parking lot as fast he could, heading back to the safe house.

He promised himself that that would be that last time he would see her, but just like a magnet, he was drawn back the next week, and the next. And the next. Until it became it little tradition. He would come into the store, get some insignificant little thing (never beer, he got that at the corner gas station now), and wait in her check-out line, no matter how long it was. When he'd get to her, he would say hi, and she would laugh and say hi back, calling him by his fake name (which she remember the next time they met without prompting, he happily noted). They would talk a little if there wasn't a line—meaningless dribble, but something he cherished nonetheless. He'd pay her, and then say bye, always with one of his rare smiles on his face. Even though he always longed to say more, stay a little longer, he never would. And just as he would walk out the glass door, he would turn back, take one last look at her, and wave when she would be watching him. The ritual would then repeat itself the next week, on the same day every week. It was his own private little thing that he shared with no one. His own little private heaven and hell.


	3. Chapter 2: Baked

_A/N: This little one shot just popped into my head while trying to write chapter 2. I just thought it was hilarious (I swear I was not on anything, unless they spiked the water fountain in my dorm). I'm posting because I just thought it displayed a bit of Mel's happy-go-lucky attitude—and to post because I haven't posted in such a long time! Sorry! Instead of giving y'all the excuses why, I'm just going to thank some people. HarryPotterAddict2 for my first ever review and PadfootCc for being the first person to put me in her favorites. You guys keep me writing! For every one else, I've noticed that I've had 143 hits on my story so far and yet only 1 review. C'mon people! Review! Let me know you care!_

_(Oh, and by the way, song for this _little_ one-shot is "Because I got high" by Afroman. You can listen to the playlist for this story on .com/14395474699. )_

* * *

"_They're not some shinny goddamn piece of toy, Mel! Fuck, you can't just run around thinking nothing is going to happen to you! One of these shit-assed days they're going to catch you, kill you, and I'm not going to be there to save you!" he finished, his chest heaving._

"_Oh, no. Whatever am I going to do without a big, strong man to protect me. I might as well shoot my self to save everyone the trouble," she responded sarcastically while rolling her eyes._

"_This is not some big joke! You ca—"_

"_Really, this is not a joke? I never would have guessed! But seriously, Derek, can you image what a person baked beyond belief would do when they would run into one of those tin cans?"_

"_Mel! I'm—"_

"_He'd be all be like, 'Duude'," she continued in a druggie voice, "'do you see that? Soo shinny. I can see my self.'"_

"_Mel!"_

"_And the tin can would be like, 'State you name!'," she imitated a terminator's low, mechanical voice._

"_Mel," Derek said again, but this time with a little laughter behind his warning._

"_The guy would be like, 'Maan, did you hear that? It can talk! So cool. I wonder if can get me some food like Rosie from the Jetsons. HELLO! CAN YOU GET ME SOME CHEETOS, DUDE? Because I have a serious case of the munchies.' And then the metal would just—"_

"_You know, I just hate you sometimes," Derek laughed._

_Pulling him close, she replied , "No, you don't. You love me. You'd go crazy without me." _

"_Probably," Derek replied, leaning in for a kiss, smiling as he did so._

Derek jerked awake, falling off the Connor's couch. Cameron, who happened to be walking by on her nightly patrol, stopped and looked at him.

"Is everything all right?"

"Why do care?" he answered venomously, trying to get up. When she just continued to stare at him for an answer, he sighed and said, "No, it's just a nightmare, keep walking."

As she did, he settled back into couch, trying to get comfortable again.

"Just a nightmare," he whispered.


	4. Chapter 3: Discovery

_A/N: I had a couple of questions about my story, which I am gonna try to answer for you other views who are too mean to review! About the age difference: says that Derek is about 16 when the bombs drop in 2011. TSCC is set during 2007, making him about 12. The first chapter is set about a year before he met the Connors, so he is 11. She is 16 in the chapter, making her, if you do the math, 5 years older than him. Also, Derek did not forget her. Her death was very painful to him, so did not go look for her because it would hurt too much. Her face faded from his memory, not her and her personality. It happens. One of my readers did find a mistake though, which I corrected. Jesse should not be in the story in the first chapter. He didn't meet her until after he met the Connors. Sorry about that! Song to play is "Assassin" by Muse. For playlist go to .com/playlist/14395474699 . Also, for more Derek-centric stories, visit my community "Funny Derek"! Now, on with the show!_

_[**note:** any italicized text means Derek's thoughts]_

**LOCATION TIME:** LA/ Early August 2008

The mid-afternoon sun peaked through the blinds, shinning in Derek's eyes as the air conditioner blew cold air across his bare chest. In the two years since escaping the post-J-Day apocalyptic hell the amazement of all the luxury around him still had not faded. For example, like the luxury of sleeping butt-naked in soft, warm bed with white sheets and a beautiful women next to him who was equally naked. Ah, life was good.

Lately he had taken to spending more and more time with Jesse. There was only so much he could do with the Connors to stop Skynet. Most of the time it was just the matter of waiting till something popped up. Besides he couldn't stand being in the same house, let alone the same room, with that tin bitch masquerading around as if it was good, like it was fully on their side. No matter what anyone said, it was just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and kill everyone around. Plus, it wasn't like anyone even noticed his absence, which was fine with him. He didn't want anyone poking around trying to find out where was going or who he was seeing. He didn't want the knowledge of Jesse and their relation out in the open just quite yet.

His attention turned to Jesse when she stirred and faced him. He could help but compare her to Mel at quite moments like this. Whereas Jesse was all business and serious, Mel was laid back and comedic. Jesse's skin was caramel; Mel peachy tan. A lone mole graced Jesse's face, while Mel look as if she was wearing a porcelain mask. In contrast to Jesse's black curly mane, Mel's was a wavy curtain of dirty blond. It was like night and day. And just like moonlight could never truly shine at the full brilliance of the sun, no matter how much he loved Jesse, he will never love her, or anyone else for that matter, like he loves Mel. Yes, _loves_. He will always love Mel no matter what; his weekly ritual only stood to make him love her even more as he found out more things about her that he never learned. Sometimes it almost felt like he was cheating on Mel when he was with Jesse. The feeling would come at the most impromptu moment, and come at such a force that it decapitated him, froze him in place. Just as quickly, though, it would fade, but it always stayed at the back of his mind like a cancer, the guilt slowly eating through him. He'd have to keep reminding himself that Mel, or least the Mel he knew, loved, and married, was long gone. Just another skull that litter the ground in the future. But still, the feeling gnawed at him. He couldn't escape it.

"Stop staring at me, Derek," Jesse said sleepily, eyes still closed. Derek was startled a bit. He hadn't notice that had she awoken. "It's creepy."

Derek mumbled a quick apology before removing the covers to slip out of bed. Jesse's arm shot out and circled around his waist to pull him closer. "Mmm... don't go yet. It's only morning."

He slipped out of her grip, and sat up, searching around the floor for his jeans. He was sure they around here somewhere. Seeing the edge of something blue under the bed, he bent down and picked them up. It must have gotten pushed underneath as they made their way to the bed. Slipping a leg into the jeans, he turned his head to the side to look at Jesse. "It's about three in the afternoon. Stay in bed if you want, but I have things to do. Missions to complete, people to kill..." _Dead wife to see..._

"_Three?_ Wow, times flies when doing things you like. Like you," she winked at him, and continued with a small smile, "But, you know what, I'm all of a sudden jonesing for some ice cream. You know the kind with the nuts, chokkie, caramel, candy pieces, the whole kit-n-caboodle. We never really got to eat that back in the day. If you're going out, you mind getting me some, yeh? And none of that bodgy stuff."

He poked his head through his shirt, and leveled a look at her. "English please."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Just get me some Ben & Jerry's Everything-but-the-sink ice cream. I promise, I'll make it up to ya, with interest."

It was time for his weekly meeting with Mel anyways, so he grabbed his keys and gun, kissed Jesse, and left.

******

_Beeep!_

"Ice cream again, Daren? Jeez, I don't know where you pack it away. If it didn't look like you worked out, I'd say you were binging and purging!"

Derek silently noted with glee that she had noticed his physique. He guessed the intense workout that he got from dodging bullets had some noticeable benefits other than staying alive. It had about two years since he had stumbled onto Mel in the grocery story, and except for a few instances (like the week he was out of commission because he got shot), he had dependably met her every Wednesday night. At first he could barely mumble a few words to her from a mixture of fear that she would learn the truth and an unexplainable feeling of shyness. It had been so pathetic; it was almost like he was a shy nerd finally getting to talk to the head cheerleader, only to find he couldn't say anything (or at least that's what he thought that was how he was acting—he really didn't remember high school dynamics anymore). But over time he became more confident and at ease around her, mostly because of Mel. She could make even the most anti-social person her friend. There was just something about her cheery, open personality that made everyone feel comfortable around her, as if they talking to a long lost friend, which was actually what she was to him. In the past, or future, or what the hell you wanted to call it, Mel had been everything to him—best friend and confidant, lover, wife, protector, commanding officer, rival, mentor, soul mate. The list was never ending. Everything he had become was because of her. That was why he had become so devastated when she had died. In one fell swoop, he had lost everything.

"So how have you been, Mel? Anything new happen?" he probed.

"What? In the last week since you've seen me? You know my life ain't that interesting," she said with a roll of her eyes. Suddenly she stopped, and looked around as if checking to see if anyone was listening in as a slow smile spread across her face. "Come closer, and I'll tell you a secret if you promise to tell no one."

She leaned over the counter, pulling Derek closer by the shoulder, stopping so that her lips were just a mere inch from his ear. He tensed at the touch. He hadn't been this close to her in so long it was overwhelming his senses. He could smell her shampoo, a mixture of some type of floral and citrus. He inhaled deeply. Combined with the warmth that was radiating off her skin and her breath as it blew lightly on his ear, it was making his knees weak. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the feeling.

"I just accepted to a summer internship at this private medical practice," she whispered, "I start there in three weeks. In fact, I'm handing in my two weeks notice in today." She leaned back over to her side of the counter, letting go of Derek's shoulder. "It's no big deal or anything," she continued at her normal volume, "I'm just going to be filling paper or what not. I won't get to cut anyone open or anything. Too bad, I really want to see all that blood."

Derek put on a fake smile. _Two weeks_. That's all the time he had left with her before she walked out of his life completely. He could feel the walls starting to crash around him already. In a fake cheery voice he said, "Blood? Aren't you freaked out by it?"

"Nah, you get use to it pretty quickly."

Derek only knew that too well. Even though he knew being a doctor was a mediocre job during the present, he felt sadden that she had chosen that profession. It was what she was after Judgment Day. She had been the second in command of the Medic unit of the Resistance, second only after Kate Connor. She had run the hospital at the main base, patching up all the the broken souls who needed help. Even though death was common place, he remembered that she reacted to each and every person who died under her care as if that was the first death she witnessed. She would grieve for those who probably had no one else to grieve for them. There was even a little notebook that she had carried around that listed every man, women, and child that died under her watchful care. If a person died whose name was unknown, she would give them a name that she thought best suited them, and add that to her notebook. A prayer was said over the body followed by a moment of silence before she moved on to the next patient, a sad but determined look upon her face. The first time he had seen her, he, delirious from the pain, had mistaken her for an angel. The spot light in the background shined behind her, making it look like as if she was surrounded by an aura of light; it had reflected off her dirty blond hair giving the illusion of a golden halo on her head. He use to joke with her that she was campaigning to be the Patron Saint of Medicine with all the good she was doing. As time went on, the joke became a myth whispered throughout the tunnels.

"Yeah, well, Mel, I'll miss you." There was so much sincerity in his words that Mel actually blushed. "No one rings me up like you do. You almost never rip me off."

"You sure know how to make a girl blush. If you don't stop with the complements, I swear I'll go blind from rolling my eyes so much."

There wasn't a line behind Derek so he just stood there. An uncomfortable silence was developing. Mel, becoming nervous from it, felt compelled to do something. Thinking of nothing else, she stuck out her hand, knocking over a pamphlets on display. An array of colorful paper rained down in front of Derek.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Damn, I'm such a klutz. Here, let me grab those real quick." She turned to step out of her station, but Derek held out a hand to stop her.

"No, no, no. I got it. You stay there." Derek knelt down, pulling his jacket down in the back to hide his Glock, and started to make a pile of paper. _Dthum, dthum, dthum. _Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, stopping as they reached the cash register. As soon as Derek heard the sound of the man approaching, a shiver ran down his spine. He froze. There was something wrong. So wrong that his skin crawled. The last time he had felt like this was in the tunnels. It was usually followed by metal raining down on him. But metal couldn't be here. Not _here_. Mel's location before the war was undisclosed, lost when the fires of hell burned everything to the ground. She never even told him her exact location pre-war, only stating that she had met up with Connor beforehand. There could be no reason for metal to be tailing him. The knowledge of his bunking with the Connors had disappeared when Sarah smashed Cromarti's chip. The only other person who knew was Jesse, but he she wouldn't tell. Derek hoped that he was just imagining his discomfort.

The hope was crushed when the deep, monotone voice of the stranger spoke, "Amelia Autumn Jones?"

"That's me. How can I help ya?"

Derek heard a gun a cocking. He turned, still in his squatting position, toward the man, seeing the gun pointing directly at Mel. Everything started moving in slow motion. The people around them saw the gun and started running, their screams muffled by the sound of his blood as it rushed through his veins. Mel was frozen in place, horror on her face. The machine was squeezing the trigger. It was going to shot Mel, and there was nothing Derek could do. Right before the bullet left the barrel, he did the only thing he could think of—he threw himself at the terminator's legs, toppling him over, and screwing up his aim.

He heard a scream and a thud as a body hit the ground, and he hoped, as bad as it was, that someone other than Mel had gotten hit. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed the gun tucked into his jeans, and shot the machine in the head in three quick blasts point blank. It stopped moving, but Derek knew he only succeeded in making it reboot. _120 seconds_. That was all the time he had to move Mel. He scrambled behind the counter. The first thing he noticed was blood. A pool of blood, growing larger by the minute. _No, no, no! Not yet. Fuck, not yet! _His eyes traced the blood to the source. Mel was sitting backed against cabinet under the register, eyes shut, teeth clenched, clutching her left side as rivets of blood flowed through her fingers down to the floor. _Thank god! She isn't dead. _He slid down through the blood, stopping next to her.

"Mel, Mel! Open your eyes. Look at me! Are you ok?!"

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "What the fuck do mean _'am I ok'_?! I just got shot by some psycho! Of course I'm not _ok_! Pshh. '_Am I ok?'_ What kind of fucking question is that?!"

By his count, he had 100 seconds left. He had to get her out of her. 'Alright, move you hand. Let me see."

Carefully, he moved her hand away from the wound. She winced as even more blood rolled down her arm. It had hit her between the ribs, just an inch from missing her completely. _If I had only moved quicker._ He could see the shinny bullet. It wasn't as deep or serious as it looked. Probably missed all the major organs. Simple to fix, but unfortunately he didn't have the time. _90 seconds._ Taking his jacket off, he tore a piece off and tied it around her chest, above the wound.

"Oww! Watch it!"

"Sorry. Here," he grabbed her hand to press the rest of the jacket to the wound, "keep pressure on it. Can you walk?"

"Yes, I think so," she nodded, determination on her face.

"Good, come on, I have to get you out here before it wakes up."

Mel thought it was odd that he referred to the man as an "it", but decided now was not the time to correct his grammar. Derek grabbed her right hand, and tried pulled her up. She slipped on her blood, but he caught her before she hit the ground.

"You ok?" Derek asked. In reply, Mel just gave him a dirty look. "Right."

Helping support her weight, they moved around the register station, walking slowly toward the front doors. He wanted to move faster, but Mel kept moaning and her eyes were starting to droop. She must have lost a lot blood. If they moved too fast she might pass out, and that would not help them. They still had a long way to go until they got to his car. Just as they were past the last checkout lane, a bullet whooshed past Derek side, hitting the wall. _Shit!_ He swung both of them around, and fired two shots blindly towards the direction where the bullets came from. Shoving Mel behind the nearest counter,to the left, he dove behind her. She landed on her injured side, and nearly blacked out.

The machine must have already awoken. He thought they had at least 20 seconds left, but he guess he must have not counted right. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ok, alright, get a grip Derek. You can do this._ There was no way they could leave through the front door to get to his car. He didn't have the right type of weapon to take the damn thing down. Plus, he only had one bullet left, plus an extra clip that had an additional six. _I should have grabbed the metal's gun._ The only option he had left was to try to leave through another way, and steal a getaway car.

"Is there another way out?!" he screamed at Mel.

She was having trouble concentrating, the pain was so bad. Black spots were starting to cloud her vision. She took a deep breathe, taking a moment to get her bearings. Derek chanced a look around the corner to position the metal, but before he stuck his head out fully, another shot whizzed past him, this time barely missing by an inch. He could hear it moving towards them, its steps slow and measured as if it had all the time in the world to find and kill them. They needed to hurry. He looked at Mel, and noticed that she was slumping, her eyes almost closed.

He grabbed Mel by the shoulders, and lightly slapped her face several times to keep her from losing consciousness. "Hey, hey, hey, Mel, come on, concentrate. Where is the other exit?"

She blinked a few times, moaning, before answering. "In the back," she motioned towards the back right.

"Ok, let's go. We have to be quite and move fast. You think you can do that?" The footsteps were only 10 feet away. She nodded her head. He pulled her up, slinging her right arm around his neck so he could help her move. Couching, they moved toward the back. Just as the corner of the nearest isle, a couple bullets hit a glass bottle of ketchup, exploding above their heads, covering them with bits of glass and red goo.

"Ahh," Mel screamed.

"Keep moving, keep moving." He was having a hard time holding her up. The ketchup was creating a slick barrier between them. A clip fell to the ground as a new clip clicked into place not ten feet from them. It was close.

He ran through the eye, practically carrying Mel. There was a mother, her arms encircling her child, in front of them, crouched behind a cart. She shrank away from them as they passed. Derek wanted to stop and try to help them, but couldn't. He just prayed that the terminator didn't shoot them in the process of hunting them. Reaching the end of the isle, he turned right. There were double doors a hundred feet from them. They hobbled forward, but stopped when Mel almost fell to the floor.

"Please, stop. I don't think I can move anymore. Just give me a minute, please." Tears were streaming down her face. Derek glanced behind them. He couldn't see it, but knew it was close by the screams of people as it passed them. _Shit!_

'No, come on. Only a little way left. You can do this!" _Don't give up now. I can't loose you twice._

"No, no. I can't!" Mel shook her head.

_Damn it!_ He did the only thing he could do. He put his hand behind her head and knees, and lifted her. Looking back one last time, he turned and practically ran through the doors and plastic flaps behind them. Stopping, he looked around. He couldn't see the exit, just boxes in piles all around. _Fuck!_ There doors were in the front center of the room, so there was no way knowing which way was the exist.

Looking down at Mel in his arms he asked, "Which way?"

"In the back left." Her voice was very weak. She wouldn't last much longer without some medical attention. He just prayed that that they would live long enough to get it. Sweat was streaming down his face, stinging his eyes. The muscles were screaming in pain, begging him to put down the extra weight. He ran forward, then took a quick left. Hallelujah, the doors were right in front of them. The doors were even propped open! Derek thanked whoever it was looking out for them. As soon as he passed through the doors, he looked around, trying to find a car.

Mel mumbled something.

"What?"

"My car. Its the blue Explorer. Parked in the front." she whispered. Derek looked around. It was the closest car to them.

"Do have your keys?"

She moved her hand from the side that was pressed against Derek, and retrieved the keys from her pocket. He almost dropped her when she moved. Again he thanked the powers that be. This saved him the trouble and time of breaking into a car. Plus, if he had to put Mel down to do it, he didn't think he could lift her again. Moving as fast as he could, he moved to the passenger side of the car.

"Can you open the door, Mel?"

She nodded her head, and he leaned in so she could reach the keyhole. It took her a few tries, but she finally unlocked the door. The entire time Derek looked towards the back door, praying the machine would reach them yet. He pulled the door open with a grunt, depositing her in the seat. His arms were so stiff he barely could move them from the position they were in. Making sure she wasn't in the way, he shut the door and ran to other side of the car. Opening the driver side door, he scrambled in, starting the car even before he slammed the door was shut.

_Phew._ A bullet shattered through the front windshield, cracking it right down the middle. It had caught up to them. Derek cursed out loud, and threw the car in reverse, rear ending the car behind them. The machine was running at full speed towards them. He put the car in drive, and sped out of the parking lot. The machine was still right behind them. The back windshield shattered completely as it fired more shots at them. Derek sped up more, willing to car the move faster. He turned right at the curve going 60 mph, and for a second it, the truck was moving on only two wheels. As he straightened out the steering wheel, all the tires slammed down onto the pavement, earning a long moan of pain from Mel. Derek wanted to make sure she was fine, but he had no time. First things first, he had the loose the gun-wielding machine. He gunned the engine some more, looking in the rear view mirror. The machine was still behind them, only 30 feet away. He took another sharp left turn at the stop sign, trying to loose it. He looked back. It was working! It was loosing ground—now only 50 feet from them....100...200. Knowing that it wouldn't be able to catch up with them, it stopped and aimed, emptying out the remaining bullets it had left. One hit the side view mirror on the driver's side, blowing it off completely. Derek turned left again, this time the machine disappearing from view completely. He almost yelled for joy, but he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. It could acquire a car, and find them.

Mel moan beside him, drawing his attention to her. She was sprawled on the seat. Her bleeding had gone down a bit. The seat and the door were smeared with her blood. The good thing was her eyes were open and she looked coherent. The bad thing was that she looked like she needed some answers.

"What the hell happened? Why was that man trying to kill me?"

He looked away from her, and turned his attention back on the road. Should he tell her the truth—that that man wasn't a man, but a machine sent back from the future to kill her? That _he_ was from the future? Would she even believe him? Maybe silence was the best policy.

"Hello?! Daren, please, tell me what the hell is going on?" Guess not.

He looked back at her before checking the rear view mirror, then turning his eyes back to the road. He couldn't tell, at least not right now. Instead, he tried to distract her. "You need to keep pressure on the wound or you'll bleed to death."

She took the jacket and put it firmly on her wound. "Fine, done. Now tell me what the fuck is going on? What's going on? And where did you get that gun?"

He turned into a busy gas station, and got out. Opening her door, he said, "Come on, we need to ditch this car, and get a new one. It might be tracking this."

"What do you mean get a new one? Do you mean stealing one?"

"Yes, now move! We don't have much time," he said impatiently.

"No way." She crossed her arms.

He ran a hand over his face. He forgot how stubborn she got. "If you want to live, we have to steal a car. Now COME ON!"

"No! Not until you tell me what's happening."

He eyed her. "I could get drag you out."

"You wouldn't! If you do, I'll scream bloody mary!"

He gave up. Throwing his arms in the air and practically screamed, "Fine! But I'm not gonna sit here and chat with you while the damn thing catches up with us. Once we're on the road again, I'll talk. Now, move!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

He helped her out of the car, and together they walked to the passenger side of a car a little way from theirs. Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention, Derek slammed his fist into the window of the car, and popped the lock. He settled Mel down, then walked to the other side, and got in. He bent down under the steering wheel, and hot wired the car to life. After rolling down the windows to hide the damage, he slowly drove out of the parking lot so as not to bring them any unwanted attention.

"Ok, so talk. Now," Mel said turning toward him.

He considered lying, but decided against it. She was going to find out sooner or later. "That _man_ is not a man, but a cyborg sent from the future by Skynet, an A.I computer system, that in the future, will start a nuclear holocaust that wipes out almost all of mankind. It was sent here to assassinate you."

She started at him in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? A machine? Really?" He looked at her for a second, them turned back to the road. "You're not kidding. Oh my god, I've been kidnapped by a crazy person. Let me out!"

"No." Her hand towards the door handle. "Don't even think about it. I'll just stop the car, and throw you back in."

"This can't be true! You're crazy."

"Fine, don't believe me. Just don't say I didn't tell you in a few years."

"Ok then, let's say what you're saying is true. Why is it after me? Why am _I_ so important?" Mel still didn't believe him, but decided to play along. She wasn't in any condition to really make an escape right now, and arguing with a madman didn't seem like such a good decision.

Derek sighed. "You play an important part in the Resistance, a group of survivors who banded together to fight. If you died now, then Skynet has a greater chance of winning the war, of wiping out the whole human race. Look, I know you don't believe me, but its true. I've...." he didn't want to say it, but he was going to have to, "I've see it with my own eyes, lived through it. Either way, I can't let you go and risk the chance that I'll find you and kill you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Mel spoke again. "Where are you taking me?"

Derek had thought about taking him to Jesse, but had decided against it. Call him crazy, but he didn't exactly want to be in the same room with his future wife and current lover. It just didn't seem like something a sane person would want to do. So instead, he was taking her to the Connors. He hated bringing Mel anywhere close to that metal bitch, but he had no choice. Maybe they could even get that mopey ex of Sarah's to patch Mel up. "We're going to my house. I have some..._friends_ there that could help keep you safe." Looking over at her, he noticed how scared she was. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you, or let anything else hurt you. I promise."

Mel looked into his eyes before he turned them back to the road. She didn't know why, but for some reason she believed him. There was just something about him that made her feel safe. _Hell, he had already saved me from that psycho with the gun_, she thought. _ Why would he go through all that trouble only just to kill her later?...Maybe just so he could take his time to enjoy it?!_ _No, no, he's not like that. I hope._ She silently laughed, which all of a sudden caused a sharp pain through shoot her. She gave a long, low moan.

"Hold on, Mel. We're almost there." He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. "Hello, Sar--" He grumbled an obscenity as he typed in a code before putting the phone back to his ear. "Sarah, I've run into a problem...I ran into a metal...no, no I lost it, but—...Yes, I'm heading home and I'm bringing a guest...the target, I've saved her, but she's hurt...Yes, a women. I'll tell you it is later. She got shot. She needs to be patched up...She'll be all right. It's not that serious. Missed anything big, but be ready when I get home...yeah, I'll be there in five... Be ready." He hung up, and dropped the phone in his lap.

After another five minutes, they pulled into a residential neighborhood before pulling to a stop before a large, brick home. As soon as they parked into the drive way, Sarah and Cameron ran to the car. Derek got out of the car, and moved to the passenger side. As soon as Sarah saw Derek, she ran up to him, and asked, "Are you all right? What happened."

Derek looked down. "It's not all blood. It's mostly ketchup and a little of her blood." _Derek,_ Mel thought. Her vision was starting to get dark again. _I thought his name was Daren?_ Derek pulled open her door, and reached down to pick her up in his arms again.

"Hey! I can walk..by..." Before she could even finish the sentence, darkness enveloped her completely.

_A/N II: Ouch, my hand is all cramped by all the writing. BTW, anonymous reviewer TK-MR who said all my chapter are kinda short: this chapter is 5444 words (not counting the A/Ns), which is almost three times the number of words of all the previous chapters combined. How do ya like them apples?! J/K. Thank you guys for all the reviews and the "hurry-ups" (I'm taking about you, Dr. Cullen). I really appreciate it. You guys don't know how much._


	5. Chapter 4: Sacrifice

"Run!"

"No! We can fight! We can kil—"

"At the cost of one of our lives! And if one of has to die, it's going to be me. I'll distract it enough so you can get away."

"But—," A kiss to say goodbye, to stop any argument. A push to move in the right direction.

"Please, don't do this! I can't live without you!" Tears and another kiss to wipe them away.

"And I can't live with the knowledge that I could have saved you." A last embrace. A last kiss conveying all the love and none of the regrets.

"I love you," murmured against lips.

"Forever and always." A smile that doesn't quite reach the eyes. There's noise in the distance, heavy footsteps with a metallic twinge.

"It's coming! Now go!"

A last look, and they move in opposite directions. One to mourn a life and the other to save one.

_A/N: Yes, I know this is really short. Yes, I know you hate me. And BTW, this is my favorite chapter so far that I have posted, and the second scene that popped into my head when I came up this story. Now, can you figure out who's who in this chapter? You're going to have to guess 'cause I ain't gonna tell you! **evil laugh** :) _

_Songs: "Blackout" by Muse and "The Grave" by Don McLean. (These songs are not clues to who dies. He he he)_


	6. Chapter 5: Alone part 1

_A/N: I just want to thank everyone for reviewing and taking time to actually read this piece of crap. Love you guys (and gals)! Just so y'all know, the point of view changes quiet a lot. I'll try to make it clear as possible when it happens. Feel free to PM if you don't understand when it happens. Alright after watching the last episodes, I'm in a bit of a dilemma about what to do with Charlie and Jesse. So I'm just going to do what I do best, and ignore the problem, and act like it never happened. Just pretend that Charlie didn't die; he's just going to fade out of the story eventually. With Jesse, I'm just going to have it so that Derek just stops seeing her, and the whole Riley fiasco never happened. In fact, as many of you are going to be happy to hear, in my little universe, there IS no Riley. She never happened, and John never met her. Yay!_

_Al right, now the thing with this chapter is that, originally, this was a hell of a lot longer chapter. Like twice as long. But it was taking too long to finish, so I'm cutting it into two. The people, or should I said person (Hi, fairedust!), have been pushing me to post so I can get you my stuff out faster._

_Songs: "New Born" by Muse and "Jesse's Girl" by Rick Springfield (just replace any girl references with man. Sorry, couldn't help it. He he he.)_

* * *

There was something crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. She tried to move, but it just stood to make it worse, making it feel like a white-hot poker was being stabbed into her sides. Her eyes shot open from the explosive pain. That was a bad idea. The sudden burst of light brought along a wave of nauseousness, almost emptying the contents of her stomach. She shut her eyes, trying to fight off the feeling but failing. All of it was making her disorienting. Taking a deep breath she tried to scope her surroundings using her remaining senses. Her body was horizontal, lying down on...on a bed? There were sheets covering and beneath her...no, a couch. Here feet were propped out on a arm. The tightness on her chest was bandages? Yes, bandages. From what? _A tall man, stocky in build...a gun firing off..screams...blood. So much blood...Daren. Daren pulling her along, carrying her, saving her. Ramblings from a crazed man...about..about a ski mask? No! Skynet! Nuclear Holocaust! A large brick house. _His_ brick house._ Oh god, he had kidnapped her! She had to get out! If Daren was anywhere around, she wouldn't be able to get far—she seriously doubted that she could get farther than the couch, and that was a stretch.

Yelling. Someone was yelling close by. She strained to hear.

"So, you're just going to keep her here?!" said an unfamiliar man's voice, deep and soothing, even while arguing.

"What else are we going to do?" Daren,—or was it Derek?—she could recognize that voice anywhere. "You've seen what it can do. If I let her go, she'll die. It'll catch her, and kill her without a second thought." There he went again, using "it" when it's suppose to be "he". She would really need to sit him down and teach him his pronouns. That is, _after_ she has his ass thrown in jail for kidnapping of a minor.

The man spoke again, this time in a strained voice as if to hold back his anger. "Her face is plastered all over the news. Police are searching everywhere for her. There is no way you'll be able to hide her for long. These searches for missing children, they go on forever. Sooner or later someone is going to see her. What are you going to do then? Huh? And what about John and you, Sarah? What if they catch you with her?"

A glass slammed down on a surface. Someone let out a long sign. A women's voice spoke—Sarah she guessed, her words slow and measured, "Charlie, we know. Alright, we know. But we've spent this long under the radar, we can do it now. We have to. You heard him explain earlier, she's too important."

"Yeah, I heard him, but he never said why. Why, Sarah? Why is she so important that you're willing to risk John's safety?!" Charlie practically screamed at her.

Someone entered the room, and for one horrible moment Mel thought it was the shooter from the grocery store. The sound of the footstep had the same heavy sound. There was silence for a few moments before a girl spoke, her voice high and creepy in the way it held no emotions yet so much authority, "Major General Amelia A. Jones-Reese, born in 1991 as Amelia Autumn Jones, whereabouts unknown until after Judgment Day. Wife of Lieutenant Derek Reese since 2024." _Wait, _Derek_? She couldn't possibly mean that in the future I would marry..._ "Third in the line of command, second in the medic section. Key figure in the development of the Resistance. Specialized in medicine, wilderness survival, and self-defense. Saved General John Connor's life in 2022 after a HK exploded nearby, embedding shrapnel in his face and chest. Suspected mistress of John Con—" Derek pulled his gun out and aimed it directly at Cameron's face.

"Shut up, Metal, or I swear I will take you apart. Piece. By. Piece," he said, his voice a deadly calm. The gun shook slightly in his shaking hand. How _dare_ she—it. The fucking metal had no idea what it was talking about. Mel had never betrayed him in her life. She and John were like siblings. There was no way she would do such a thing. And the way it had said it! As if it was no big deal that it just called his dead wife a whore! As if... it didn't even matter. How did it even know about this fucked up rumor? It was about to open its mouth to say something more. Hadn't he just warned it to SHUT UP? O, he was _so_ going to love watching it BURN! But just as he was about to shoot at its chip and wipe that damn deer-in-the-headlights look off its fucking face, Sarah intervened.

"Derek!" She warned, putting a hand on his arm to force his hand down. He just shrugged her off, and re-aimed at its head. "Derek! Damn it, put the gun down! NOW!" He lowered his gun, but just a fraction of an inch. His chest heaved as if had just run a marathon. From the corner of his eyes he noticed John in the background eying the back door exit with a look on his face that clearly said he wanted to be anywhere other then here with a pissed-off, gun-wielding uncle who thought he had screwed his wife."Derek, why didn't you tell me she was—is going to be your wife?"

He gave a quick, side-long glance at Sarah before darting his eyes back to Cameron. "I didn't think you needed to know."

Hurt flashed across Sarah's face before quickly being replaced by anger. "You don't get to choose what I need or don't need to know, Reese. You don't get to keep things to me." Derek didn't care. He didn't want to hear this—didn't care what Sarah wanted. There were just somethings that didn't he want to tell someone else. Angered by his silence, Sarah opened her mouth to scream at him, but instead was interrupted by Cameron.

"She's awake." All their heads whipped in Mel's direction, just in time to watch her try to get off the couch only to fall smack dab in the middle of the space between the coffee table and the couch. Charlie ran forward to help her up.

"Damn," Derek swore. He hadn't notice when she had awoken. The last time he had check (when Cameron had started to list the facts of Mel's life) she had been asleep. Or at least he hoped she had been asleep. For some reason he did not want her to know the full extent of the their relationship in the future.

"Stop trying to cop a feel, jackass, and get the hell away from me!" Mel screamed. Charlie backed away after depositing her back on the sofa, hands in the air casting worried glances at Derek and his gun.

"Man, I swear I didn't."

"Whatever! Who the hell are you, anyways? All of you? And where have to taken me?" Mel cast angry glares at everyone.

Derek walked forward and sat on the sofa next to her. Mel eyed the gun in his hand, moving further down the couch. He tried not to take the action too personally. She was in a strange place with strange people while barely being able to move. She was scared; her eyes were wild with fear. If he was in her situation, he would do the same. Noticing her apprehension of the gun, Derek raised his hands in the air, and then slowly moved to put the gun on the table to show he wasn't going to use it. He hated not having the gun some place on him, but he forwent the comfort for her comfort. It felt as if he had cut of one of his limbs.

"Calm down—"

"You just did _not_ just tell me to '_calm down'_! I think I'm pretty calm considering I haven't taken that gun and shot you in the head!"

Derek took a deep breath. A full fledge argument would not help right now. He recognized her mood. When she got in this augmentative mood, she would push you until all you could do was scream back.

"You're at my house. I had to take you someplace safe," he replied slowly.

"Why didn't you just take me to the hospital? Or to the cops? I would have been plenty safe there!"

"No, you wouldn't have. The metal would have found you easily, and no number of police officers would have been able to save you."

"And you think you can​?"

"Yes, _we_ can With the exception of the Charlie here, each of has fought one of those tin cans before and won. Plus, we have something they don't have. Metal. A machine." Mel searched around trying to find it.

"Where? I don't see anything."

John stepped up then, pulling Cameron along. "Hi, I'm John, and this," he said, gesturing to her, "is Cameron, our resident cyborg protector from the future."

Mel eyed the girl from head to foot. "Her? You guys expect me to believe that this little girl is a machine? From the future? Pul-lease! All of you need to go and check into the nearest mental hospital. I heard that Pescadero has a few openings. I am sure they'd _love_ to have you." Sarah almost went and slapped the girl silly for her comment, but instead kept her head. "Plus, I so could take her on. If she really is a cyborg, she isn't a very good one."

Cameron did not like that comment one bit. She looked Mel square in the eyes and flashed her eyes blue in warning.

"Holy fuck!" Mel tried to scramble further back, but stopped when pain shot through her side again.

"Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, girlie, or you're going to hurt yourself. Try not to move so much. You need rest." Charlie warned.

"What the hell? How did she do that? " She put a hand to her chest, and gave a nervous laugh. "Probably have some kind of new contacts that can glow when you push a button or something, right?"

John gave a tired sigh as he pulled out a knife from his back pocket. "Why don't they ever believe me? Cam, do you mind showing her?"

"Yes, I don't mind." She flipped the knife open, and started cutting down her wrist.

"Hey stop!" Mel said, panic in her voice. She turned toward the man in the paramedics uniform. "Aren't you suppose to help people? Stop her!"

"No need. I am done." Cameron pulled the skin back, and showed Mel her exoskeleton. She wiggled her finger to show the mechanisms move.

"Oh my god." Mel whispered. She stared in wonder. The sight before her was horrifically beautiful, like a crash on the side of the highway. She couldn't look away. "So it's true. Everything you said, it's all true?"

"Yes. So, do you see? Do you see _why_ I had to bring you here? Why you can't go back?" Derek said.

"Wait," Mel finally tore her eyes from Cameron's gleaming metal to face Derek, "what do mean I can't go back?"

He immediately felt sorry he had said anything. It was too much information to load on to a person at one time. "I'm sorry. You can't ever go back to your life, to your house, to your family. It's too much of a risk. You're too important to the future to risk getting hurt."

"No. No! You can't do this to me! You have to eventually let me go!" Mel looked at each person individually, trying to get some sympathy or agreement. They all refused to look into her eyes, except Cameron, who looked at her as if she was a puzzle she couldn't figure out. "You..you said that you've beat one before, right? Right?! You can kill this...this _thing_, and then let me go home. Right? Right? ANSWER ME!" She was getting hysterical, tears streaming down her face as she shook uncontrollably. The compulsion to take Mel in his arms and take all her pain away was so strong that it physically hurt Derek to stay right where he was. It felt like he was breaking the promises he made to Mel that he would never let another tear fall from her eyes.

When no one said anything, Sarah took a deep breath, and tried to explain, "It won't work. Trust me, we've tried. Every time we kill one, another one springs up in its place. We've been at this for a _long_ time. It is not going to stop anytime soon, and it's going to keep getting worse. Not unless we stop Skynet. I trust that Derek has already told you what it is?" She took Mel's silence as confirmation. "Well, then you know what your future entails. Once they find you, you can't go back, not without risking your life, and the lives of all those you love." She wanted to say that she was sorry, but Sarah knew how useless that sentiment was. An apology won't bring back the old life and innocence that Mel had just lost.

"What..what about my parents? I can't just let them think I've disappeared! Please!"

Sarah let out a tired sigh. This girl reminded her of the old, innocent girl _she_ had been so long ago. But she could let her feelings for the girl get in the way of the big picture. The big picture being John's future. Like Cam had said, she would save John's life, and even play a big part in his life. Who knew, maybe this girl and the side relationship she supposedly had with him would be the only _that_ kind of relationship he would have. It would lonely being _the _General John Connor, and that sadden Sarah. She was just about to tell the girl that she would have to forget about her parents and the life she had if she wanted to _live_ any kind of life, but Derek surprised her by speaking first.

"Alright," he said, looking at hand before meeting Mel's eyes.

"Wh...What?" Mel asked stunned.

"I would like to know that myself." Sarah crossed her arms.

"I mean, alright. We won't let them think you've disappeared."

"What!" Sarah screeched. "What the hell do you mean Derek? We can't just let her go back. It will find her and kill her. She's too important to let her go back to her old life just to die."

"You're right," he looked anywhere but at Sarah because he knew that what he was about to say was ludicrous. If he knew Sarah at all, he knew his plan was going to bring on a hellva fight, but it was worth it. His Mel had told him how much her parents had meant to her when she was younger. She needed them. Plus, if he had a chance to be with his parents a little longer, he sure as hell would have taken it. "You're right that she can't go back to her old life. We're just going to have to bring her life to her, or at least the most important aspect of it. Bring her parents here, and protect her whole family. Give them a whole new identity. Hide them with us, and give them so semi-resemblance of normal while they still can have it." He was going to say just move them, and let them live their own life, but, selfishly, he didn't want Mel to leave him again.

"Derek. You have to be kidding me. By keeping them with us, it'll just attract more attention. We can't do that." Sarah tried to reason. She could see that he wanted to keep Mel by his side, but it wouldn't be possible.

"Yes, we can." Everyone turned to Cameron in surprise.

"Since when have you ever agreed with Derek?" John asked in disbelief.

"Since his ideas help me with my mission parameters."

John was almost afraid to ask. "I thought I was your mission. What do you mean?"

"Along with protecting you, I was given the mission of protecting Amelia Jones once she meets John Connor."

"_What?_" Sarah and Derek screeched at the same time.

"It is one of my—"

"I heard what you said!" Sarah practically screamed at her. "Why didn't you tell me that you had other missions? Are there others I should know about?!"

"You're on a need to know bases. Now you need to know."

Running her hand through her hair, Sarah started to pace back and forth in the kitchen. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. If Cameron wasn't so vital to John's survival, she would have gladly let Derek tear her apart. All of this was starting to give a tension headache.

"By bringing her parents here, I have a greater chance of keeping her from running away from us, and keeping her physically and mentally safe."

"Alright, fine! We'll get her parents! But you sure better have a plan Derek because I am not going into this blind."

Mel couldn't believe her ears. She would be willing to let go of her old life if she would be able to stay with her parents. "Oh god. Thank you. Thank you so much!"

"Ok, here's what I'm thinking. I'll take tin miss with me, and—"

" I can't go with you. The next forty-eight hours are very crucial. I was told not let either John or Mel out of house, and stay with them at all times."

"Damn." Derek got up with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "As much as I hate to admit it, I could have really have used your help on this." He turned to Sarah. "I guess then that it's just going to be me and you. I think that the metal after her will be near Mel's house, just in case she tries to come back. He saw my face and recognize me, so he'll try to get her through me. We'll sneak into her house through the back so that, hopefully, he won't notice me, and convince her parents to come with us."

"And how are we going to do that?" Sarah demanded. She was starting to get overwhelmed, and more than a little pissed off at the secrets people were keeping around.

"They'll have to come with us if they want to see her."

"They might not think we have her. What if they just call the police instead?"

Mel got an idea. She took off the necklace she always wore around her neck, and handed it to Derek. It was a gift from her parents given on her thirteenth birthday. "Here, give them this. It'll convince them that I'm with you. And if they still need more proof, call me and I'll convince them."

Derek nodded. It was as solid plan of a plan they going to get on such short notice. "We should leave right now. This needs to be done as soon as possible."

"I'll start packing the heat, just in case. Meet me at the jeep in five." Sarah sauntered off towards her room.

Derek made to move, but Mel caught him by the arm. "Daren, Derek, whoever you are—_thank you_. For saving me. For getting my parents. You don't know what this means to me."

He put his hand over hers on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze before getting ready. The place where she had touch his arm tingled.

Mel watched his retreating form as she cradled her hand, surprised at how much she could trust a man that she barely knew.


	7. Chapter 5: Alone part 2

_A/N: Can it be?! Can it be?! I've posted a new chapter in such a short while instead of month like I usually do? Holy Moly Crapoly, hell hath frozen over! Lol._

_So I was looking over the story traffic since the end of December when I posted the first chapter, and, surprise, Wednesday's chapter post has gotten the most hits and visitors ever! 143 hits and over 50 hits, all in one day! Wooowhooo! You can't see me, but I'm doing my little touchdown dance here! Oh yeah! He he he. (Not to be a glass-half-full kind of girl, but only 2 reviews. Come on people!! You're killing me here. Being a money-strapped college student, reviews quench my hunger. Feed me!)_

_Now, some story notes. People have trying to figure out who was who in the death chapter. Now I thought I had made this clue crystal-clear, but the only two people in that chapter are Mel and Derek. So either Mel dies or Derek dies. I was telling y'all to try to figure out which one of them dies, and who lives. Good luck with that!_

_Songs: "By myself" by Linkin' Park and "Papercut" by Linkin' Park and "On my own" by Three days grace. Just check out my playlist for this story at .com/14395474699 (if that doesn't work just search in autumn0587 on .)_

_Now here is the original continuation and conclusion of CH 5:Alone. It ain't a chapter unless someone gets hurt! Enjoy! _

They had been parked across the street from the neighboring house behind Mel's house for the past fifteen minutes. Derek screened the environment through his binoculars, trying to see if the coast was clear enough to make their move. Other than a little boy playing in the street with a basketball a few minutes ago, there was no activity. They had planted a hidden camera earlier, positioned so that they could watch the front of the house simultaneously. Sarah was currently monitoring its activity on a laptop.

"Anything?" Sarah asked from the passenger seat.

"No. You?"

"Nothing. It's almost too quite. I'm not getting a good feeling about this. It might be a trap."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it if it is. We have to get them."

"We could turn back. Wait 'til Cameron can come, and then make our move. It might make it easier to explain."

Derek shook his head, turning to look at her. "No, it needs to be now. Moving later gives it more time to plan its attack. It's now or never." Sarah was almost tempted to say never, but kept her mouth shut. She had been doing that a lot lately. Maybe she was going soft.

"I think we're clear to move," he said as he trucked the binoculars back in his backpack.

She let out a heavy sigh."Okay then, lets get it over with."

"Right." Sarah grabbed the duffel bag of weapons as she got of the car. Following her, Derek tucked his gun in the back of his jeans, flipping the jacket out to cover his weapon.

They casually walked into the neighbor's fence, opening the door as if they were headed to a party in the back, making sure not to look around. Nothing gets attention more than looking like you don't belong. They had made sure the house was empty before attempting this. Otherwise, this would not have gone as smoothly as need. As soon as they got to the fence bordering Mel's house, Derek knelt down to give Sarah a boost over as she dropped the bag to the ground. She paused at the top to make sure no one was watching before heaving herself over, stumbling a bit on the landing. Throwing the bag over first, Derek followed a few seconds later with a grunt. They took their guns out, cocked and ready to shoot anything that moved wrong. They walked across the small green lawn towards the sliding glass doors at the back of the house.

The house was gloomy, dark except for a single dim light in the kitchen. The swings on the small playground set in the back squeaked as the wind gently moved them. Clouds were rolling in from the south, muting the colors around them, deepening the shadows. They paused at the doors, before Derek moved to open them. Instead of being locked like he expected, they slid open effortlessly. After ushering in Sarah, he closed and locked the sliding door, and pulled the blinds shut.

"Why hasn't anyone rushed forward yet? We made a lot of noise coming in," Sarah questioned. There was a twittery quality to her, like a mouse that would scamper at the first sign of a cat. Her eyes were continuously scanning the living room they were standing in.

"I don't know. Their car was parked in the front, right? So they have to be home. Maybe they're upstairs, and didn't here us."

"I guess. We should sweep the ground level before moving upstairs. I'm telling you, something doesn't feel right." She shook her head, trying to get rid of the feeling. She knelt down into the bag and took out her favorite pump-action shotgun. Handing Derek an assault rifle, she stood up. "Check around this room, the dinning room, and the kitchen, and I'll sweep everywhere else. We'll meet at the stairs."

Derek nodded his head as Sarah moved to search the rest of the floor. They didn't dare turn on any lights, using only the dim, gray light cast naturally from the soon-to-be stormy day outside. The wooden floors creaked as Derek moved forward to look around. There were soft-looking, worn sofas centered around a table in the middle of the room. They were facing a large screen television that was mounted on the wall. A soft beige rug was spread over half the floor. Off to the side was a fireplace, its' mantel littered with framed pictures. He stepped forward to take a better look, curious to get a look at the part of Mel's life he never knew.

The first one was with a happy couple on their wedding day—Mel's parents he assumed. The groom's head was thrown back in laughter trying to avoid the bride, who smiling face was already covered with frosting, as she tried to smear cake all over his face. The next picture was of the loving couple again, this time in a hospital. The obviously tired, but happy mother looking down at a tiny, sleeping bundle cradled in her arms, as the father kissed his wife's temple while stretching out an arm to take the picture. Beside that was a picture of Mel at two, laughing, her dimples prominent, covering from head to toe in what appeared to be mud, obviously happy at smearing goo all over the pristine, white walls behind her. From then on, the pictures were like a slid show, showing Mel as she grew from a child smiling with a few teeth missing to a beaming preteen with her soccer uniform and trophy to a finally the most recent, a picture of her in a graduation gown and cap holding a bouquet of flowers sandwiched between her two proud parents as the sun shined down on them.

Derek smiled as he looked through the pictures of Mel's life, glad that she at least had a happy childhood. He pocketed the most recent photo, thinking that maybe she would want just one picture of her old life.

Moving on, he walked towards the hallway that led to the dinning room and kitchen, his gun leading the way. He stopped before entering it, looking tiredly at all the doors in it. There had to be at least ten. Why was it that every time Derek had to search a building, there was always a billion closed doors behind where something bad could be lurking?

Standing against the wall next to the the first door on the right, he took a deep breath, and quickly opened it. There was nothing inside but a lone spider making its way down to the floor and some cleaning supplies. He sighed and closed the door. He repeated the process to the others, trying to move as quickly as possible while still being through, his heart beating loudly in his eyes each time. All of a sudden, just as he was about to reach a swinging door, a loud crack of thundered sounded followed by power outage. He was plunged into total darkness, the light from the kitchen no longer illuminating his path.

"Damn." Just what he needed. Hell, life wouldn't be fun without a little something to make it more dangerous.

Moving to where he last remember seeing the swinging door, he pushed his palm forward and found success as he felt the wall give away to reveal the dinning room. One side of the room was covered in large bay windows, which were currently being pounded by such a heavy downpour that he could not see the swing set that was only ten feet from the windows. At least the rain would make it hardier for anyone watching to see them sneak out with the Joneses. As he stepped backwards out of the room, the swinging down shut with a soft thud causing darkness to obscure his sight again. Cautiously he groped his way towards his final destination, the kitchen. The good news was that there was no door to open this time. Bad news—there was only a tiny window in the room overlooking the backyard which was covered by curtains. He was starting to really regret leaving his flashlight behind. He only hoped Sarah was faring better then him.

His mind was so concentrated on what was in front of him that he failed to notice the wet puddle on the floor. His right foot slipped forward. He would have fallen flat on his ass if he hadn't grabbed the molding on the wall. Bending down, he stuck his hand in the thick liquid, bringing it to his face to smell. _Blood. _Just as the thought flashed in his mind, he saw legs sticking out behind the kitchen island. And the glint of something metal.

It was only his quick thinking that save his life. He duck back into the hallway just a gun fired off to his right. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Taking his hand gun from the back of his jeans, he stuck his arm out, and blindly shot a couple of rounds. The shots collided with something metal, but he didn't know if he had hit the cyborg or some kitchen appliances. Crouching, he ran through the hallway towards the sliding doors. Why couldn't a mission ever go smoothly? Just get in and get out without any complications.

"Derek?!" he heard Sarah scream. Where the hell was she? They shouldn't have split up, not when a machine was on the loose. Humans always had the advantage in groups.

What should he do? He was taught to always keep going. Never go back for someone. One life lost is better than two. He paused for a second while he delibrated. _Screw it! _This was Sarah he was talking about it. John would never forgive him if his mother got hurt, and if Kyle was still alive, he would have decked him for even thinking about leaving her behind.

Just as he was about to turn to look for her, Sarah burst into the living room, almost shotting him on sight.

"Damn it, Sarah! It's me! Don't shoot!"

Instead of lowering her gun, she swept the room trying to find any additional danger. "I heard gun fire. What the hell happened, Derek!"

Before he could even answer, two things happened simultaneously. Sarah saw two creepy, red glowing eyes approaching from the hallway behind Derek. The light from the eyes eerily glinted off a barrel of a gun that was pointed right at them. An aiming laser glinted blinding from the gun. At the same time, Derek saw a red laser dot as it traveled from Sarah's gut to right in the middle of her forehead. The both yelled duck at the same time. Sarah slid behind the sofa as Derek dove to his right against the wall.

The terminator stopped as it took another gun from its belt and started to fire off blindly into the living room. They were pinned down, and Derek couldn't see a way out. Relief came when the machine took a moment to reload his guns. They took the chance to fire a few choice rounds at the machine's chip. They barely had time to dented the head before having to duck as it started to return fire.

They were going to die here. They were going to die here, and John and Mel were going to be left alone to fend for themselves. Derek should have never suggested this. He should have just suggested calling her parents and telling them to meet them someplace or something. They were going to die here, and it was all his fault for being a lovesick idiot. And had just gotten use to this life where he didn't have to look over his shoulder every day, and wonder if he was going to die any second. They were still at war, but this wasn't as bad as after Judgment Day. He didn't want to leave just yet. Why did god choose to grant his wish of death now after he was somewhat happy?

Then he saw it—their slim chance of survival. He had a view into the hallway, and in it he saw one of its many closed doors. If he remembered correctly, behind that door was large tank of propane gas that was used for the stove and to heat water. It was a long shot, but if Derek could somehow shoot through the door and hit the tank, the resulting explosion, if not taking out the machine for a little while, would at least provide enough of a distraction for them to escape. But he was so close to it; it might slow down the machine, but it might take him out in the process.

A bullet shot out, hitting only an inch from where Sarah was hiding behind the now upturned couch. She cringed from the site and moved as farther down as she could while still having the machine in her line of sight. That sealed the deal for Derek. He needed to get her out if nothing else but so she could get to the others and ell them about Mel's parents. He inched closer until he could get a clearer shot, thankful that the assault rifle could actually pierce through the thick door and get to the tank.

Squinting, he tried to judge where exactly the tank was behind the door. If memory served him right, it was on the right hand side of the closet. He took a deep breathe, praying that this would not be the last thing he would ever do, and pulled the trigger. The terminator did not stop firing, not sensing the threat. Derek took stock again, and fired through the hole the earlier shot had made. He couldn't hear if he had hit gold over the sound of the shooting.

Just when he was about to give up, a spark from the machine's gun ignited the invisible gas causing a loud, bright explosion. It seemed to go in slow motion for Derek. He could see as the explosion started, blasting the door and shooting shrapnel as blossomed in a fiery, debris-filled cloud. The ground under him shook as parts of the ceiling fell. He watched helplessly as it expanded toward him, the heat burning his face and heating his gun. Dropping his now burning gun, he uselessly brought up his hands to shield himself from the blast. The force of the blast threw him back into the bookcase behind him. The selves broke causing all its heavy books to come cascading down on him, knocking him unconscious. The bookcase teetered dangerously before falling on him too.

As soon as saw the explosion began, Sarah had hit the ground and covered her head. The couch took the brunt of the explosion as slid back a little from the effect. As everything settled down, she slowly stood up, coughing from the dust filled air. The hallways was now a big, gaping, scorched hole. The were little fires burning all around. She couldn't see the cyborg anywhere nearby. It must have been thrown into the kitchen. Derek was no where to be found.

"Reese!" she called out. She couldn't see where he had slid when the terminator had first appeared. Panic started to fill her.

"Reese! Damn it, where are you?" she said, muttering the last bit. There was so much debris all around on the floor. The cops would be here soon, so she had to move quick. She searched around on the floor, moving objects as she went. Finally, she spotted a hand underneath a fallen wooden structure as it moved, its fingers jerking a little. She slid to the ground next to it.

"Derek! Is that you? Hold on. I'm going to get this thing off of you!" Heaving, she flipped the bookcase over and off of him. He moaned , his eyes still shut.

"Come on, you have get up. We have to get out of here, now!" She struggled to life him to his feet, but he was barely moving. There was no way she could carry him without his help. She snapped. The scene was all too familiar. If the machine activated and found them, they both will die. "Damn it, Reese! On your feet, soldier! Get up! I'm not losing you too! Now move!"

Derek groaned, but complied. Swinging his arm around her neck, he stood up on shaky feet. Slowly they made their out the front door. There was no way that Derek would be able to jump the fence out back so the front was their only option.

He mumbled something.

"What?"

"Tin-can...where is it?" he said again,only slightly louder.

Sarah looked around before answering. "I don't know. Let's not wait around to find out." They made it out the front door and down the porch steps into the front yard. The neighbors were all out on their lawns, trying to see what all the commotion was. Sarah dragged Derek across the street to the first car she saw. Thankfully, she still had her spare semi-automatic gun tucked into her jeans. Just as she was about to use the butt of her gun to break the window, a middle-aged, balding man ran towards her.

"Hey, that's my car!"

She pointed her gun at him. The man threw his hands in the air, and started to move away. "Back away. You never saw us. You got that?"

The man nodded, watching as she busted his window and opened the door. She shoved Derek in the front seat, and then pushed him over. She got in, hot-wired the car, and sped away in the opposite way from where a police siren was wailing. By then Derek had regained full consciousness. He rubbed his head. It felt like someone was hammering his head. He was pretty sure he had a concussion.

Sarah looked over at him, worried. "You ok?"

"I'll be fine." Thankfully, other than a few cuts and burns, the head injury was all he had. He started to pat down his body.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a phone." He finally found it in his pant pocket. It was completely smashed. "Damn."

"Why do you need it for anyways?"

"I need to call home, and tell them what's going on. Just in case the metal is following us back." At that, Sarah looked back to make sure no one was. "They need to be prepared. Let me see yours." She pulled hers out, and handed it to him.

_**Meanwhile, back at the Connor house...***_

It had been ten minutes since Derek and Sarah had left, and still no one had said a word to her. As soon as they had gone, John had taken Cameron aside. They had been talking in whispers ever since. Mel knew they were talking about her since they kept shooting glances her way. They could have at least acted like they weren't. If they didn't stop soon, she was going to start yelling at them for being so rude.

Charlie, meanwhile had gone into the kitchen, insisting on cooking a meal for them while he was stuck there. He said he had nothing better to do, so he might as well make himself useful. John didn't complain. Any chance to eat something edible that was not Sarah's cooking, he'd take it. Smells of something delicious permeated throughout the house. Instead making Mel hungry, they only served to make her more nauseous. She closed her eyes and put her head back, trying to breathe through her mouth.

A few moments later she felt the couch sink down as someone sat beside her. She opened her eyes to find John sitting next to her while Cameron hovered nearby.

"Hi," John said timidly.

"Hey there. Nice to see you taking to me instead about me behind my back."

He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "You noticed that?" He let out a small laugh. "Sorry about that. I just had to ask her some questions about you."

Mel looked at him like he was crazy. "You know, you could have just asked me."

He shook his head. "Not you now, but you in the future."

"Oh," she said simply. She didn't want to know Cameron had said. She found out more about her future today than she wanted to ever know. Looking Cameron up and down, she asked, "So you're a robot?"

"A cybernetic organism," Cameron corrected in a monotone voice, as if to re-literate the fact of what she was.

"Huh."

"What?" John asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just thought that if they ever made a robot—"

"Cybernetic org—"

"She gets it!"

"—that it would look more like C-3PO from Star Wars or something."

John's lip twitched. "Yeah, well, that would be a whole lot more preferable."

Mel smiled at him, before what Cameron had said earlier about their possible relationship crept into her head. She blushed and looked away. "So..."

"So..." John said in return. The same thought had occurred to him at the same time. _This can't anymore awkward._

"So, you're John, huh? Like _the_ John Connor that everyone was taking about?"

"Yep. The one and only."

"Guess we're going to be together a lot in the future, huh?" When John looked at with his eye brows raised, she noticed her mistake. "I mean...I don't mean like _together_ together. I mean like working together. You know?"

John smiled at her obvious discomfort before realizing she should have no reason to think along those lines. Then it dawned on him. "Wait a second. Did you hear everything Cam said back there? Were you awake then?"

_Damn._ She didn't want anyone to know that she had heard. "Yeah. But please, don't tell anyone, especially Daren—I mean Derek. It would just be too awkward."

He smirked. "Like right now?"

She let out a little laugh, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, like right now."

An uncomfortable silence descended over them. John shifted in his seat as Mel stared intently at him.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "I just don't get it. You seem pretty normal to me. I mean, that's not really saying anything. Hell, I thought Derek was normal too before...but, still, how did you get involved into all of this? It doesn't seem like something you'd be into to."

John's smile faded, and he looked at Cameron. She started back without blinking.

"I'm sorry I asked. You don't have to answer."

John sighed, shaking his head. "No, it's ok. A machine tried to kill my mother, back before she was pregnant with me. I—my future self—sent someone back to try and stop it, and keep her alive. The machine was stopped, but he was killed in the process. Ever since my mom and I have been in hiding and on the run, trying to stop Judgment day from ever happening. She's been training me to be the great General she heard about."

"Oh...Sorry, but it sounds like it kinda sucks."

John threw his head back and laughed. "No, no. You're right. It sucks big time. Everyone's got all these expectations of how great and wonderful I'm going to be." He shook his head. He couldn't believe he was telling her this. He never talked about how he felt about to anyone but his mom. Hell, he never really talk to anyone outside his little family about anything, ever. "I swear, sometimes it feels like they're all just waiting for me to fail. I don't think I can be all that great. Sometimes I feel like they got the wrong guy. Like they're talking about some other John Connor."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

John looked at her. "Yeah. I guess you do now, huh?" He never had met anyone who had really understood. That was in the same position he was in. It was strangely comforting.

They sat staring at each other smiling until Charlie called from the kitchen, startling them. "Dinner's ready."

Mel made a face. "I think I'm just going to sit this one out if you don't mind. I don't feel like eating."

Charlie, upon hearing this, walking into the room. "You've been out for a while now. You need to eat to keep up your strength. I made you some broth. That should go easy on you."

Mel sighed in defeat. He was right. She started to get up, but Charlie ran forward and stopped her. "Hey, you stay there. I'll just bring it to you."

"Thanks, but I have to go to the bathroom anyways." She stood up fully, but started to sway. John quickly got up and held her steady.

"You ok there?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "Yes. It's ok; I can make it by myself. I'll just make sure to go real slow."

"Alright. The bathroom is just down that hall. Second door to your left." He let her go, and she made her way to where she was directed.

When she got to the bathroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror. There was a large bruise on her check, and deep, dark circles around her eyes. Gauze was wrapped around her head. Basically, she looked like crap that was beaten to a pulp. She cringed away from her reflection, and turned the water on. Taking care to avoid getting bandages too wet, she slashed her face with water. It woke her up a bit more, taking away some of her nauseousness. Plus, the cool water felt heavenly against her bruised face. She used the toilet, and washed her hands, drying her hands off on her pants when she couldn't find a towel.

As she walking back into the room, she saw John talking on the phone with someone.

"Is that them? Let me talk to them!" She held out her hand eagerly.

"I don't kno—," he stopped to listen to the person on the line. "Are you sure?....Ok, fine." He held out the phone to her, a worried look on his face.

She quickly grabbed the phone. "Hello? Did you get them?"

"Mel," Derek said somberly, "I'm sorry. When we got there, the machine was already there, and...they're gone, Mel. I'm so sorry."

She was confused. "What do you mean 'gone'? Well, just go find them, and bring them back."

Derek sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. He should probably tell her in person. He didn't know why he was telling her like this. "No, Mel. I mean _gone_ gone. They're...There was so much blood. I don't think they survived."

"What..What do you mean. Daren, where are my parents? WHERE ARE THEY?!" Tears were starting to down her face. She didn't want to believe what she was hearing. There had to be some kind of mistake.

"Mel, honey, I'm so sorry. We were too late. They're dead. Mel, I—"

Mel dropped the phone, and started to back away. She could hear someone around her asking if she was alright, but the voice sounded so far away, as if it was coming down from a long tunnel. Never had she felt so..._alone_. Her world had been stolen from her, and now her parents were gone too. The feeling was crushing her, suffocating her, like a black hole that was sucking all the good in her world. She struggled to breathe, but each lung full of air that she took felt like poison. It was too much. Too much. She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't _want_ to take it anymore. She wanted everything to end. To just _stop_. The ground felt unstable. Something on the floor snared her leg, causing her to trip background. As she fell to the ground, blackness crept into her vision, and this time, she welcomed it with open arms.


	8. Chapter 6: Blank

_**A/N: Just a warning for this chapter. It is a bit dark. The kitchen table scene is the first scene that ever popped into my head when I first thought of this story. Morbid, I know. Mel never started out as a happy-go-lucky type of person when I wrote the first chapter—she just became that way over time. Sorry, but I doubt Derek will be seeing those dimples for a while. **_

_**Just so you know, part of this piece is written from Mel's POV.**_

_**Also, keep in mind this is AU. The Connors and clan don't live in the same house they did in the 2nd season, or if they do, it has slightly different floor plan. Meaning, Derek has his own little room.**_

_**Sorry for keeping this so long, but I thought the death of our favorite show needed some mentioning. As many of you probably heard TSCC officially got canceled by FOX on Monday. Josh on the blog yesterday told us fans not to get to mad because shows, whither good or I completely agree, get canceled all the time. Just take for example all the great shows that got canceled this season! Now I'm not saying that FOX didn't make a humongous mistake. NBC kept Chuck on, and they have about the same umber of fans, but won less polls! We, the fan base, have put a large effort up showing just how much we love the show. We have won every poll. Not only were our internet viewership numbers were high, but so were our DVR numbers. FOX is just a fucking dumb ass. This might be a lost cause, but I'm still crossing my fingers in the hope that another, more worthy network will pick up the show. **raising my glass** Here's to the writers, cast, and crew for giving their all to make the best hour of TV I've seen in a long time. Thank you.**_

_**For those of you who want to read a silly revenge-of-the-TSCC-stars fanfic, check out "Canceled" by Trigger-Happy03.**_

_**Seeing as the show has been canceled, interest in the fanfics of TSCC will probably decline. Don't worry—I'm still going to finish this story. Now the fate of the planned sequel of this story, called "...It just continues to haunt you"(title is up for debate), is another story. I was planning to write it after finishing this one. It was going to be Mel's story after J-Day. I was just going to forget about it, but to tell you the truth, I really like Mel, and I think her story deserves to be told. So I'm leaving it up to y'all. Do you guys think I should post the story? I'll be writing it simultaneously alongside this one. If I get more than 10 yeses, I'll do it. That's about 1/4 of the viewers of the last chapter. Multiple yeses from a single person do not count. As cliché as this sounds, there is no fate than what you make. I'll be waiting to hear from everyone. Y'all have until the posting of the next chapter to decide.**_

_**Also, I don't think I have put up a disclaimer yet. So, here it is: I don't own TSCC [damn], or John [double damn], or Derek [triple damn], or any of the others. **sigh** But Mel and her story is all mine [sarcastic yay].**_

_**Songs: "Blackout" by Muse and "Time of Dying" by Three Days Grace**_

It had been two weeks since Mel had lost her parents. Fourteen days. And still she wasn't responsive. Derek watched on from the sidelines hopelessly.

He had come home to find her unconscious, John and Charlie hovering over her body trying to bring her back. At first he had though it was because of the injuries she had sustained, but soon he found out how wrong he was.

She had woken up dazed and confused, unsure of her surrounds, but not in any real physical pain. When the past couple of days finally caught up with her, she lost it. She started to scream and throw things, not caring if she hurt herself or those around her. Derek tried to calm her down—hold her in his arms and try to comfort her, but she cringed away from his touch, backing into a corner like a feral animal. When John tried, she took the nearest thing around her—a heavy sport trophy—and threw it at him, hitting him square in the head. Thankfully, John, having a thick head, was not hurt too badly. But the damage had been done. Everything happened so fast after that. Cameron, unable to hurt her due to her mission, but seeing her as a immediate danger to John, wrestled her to the ground and held her down as Charlie sedated her as she screamed and kicked wildly. She started sobbing as medicine took effect.

Everything went down hill after that.

They had moved her to Derek's room and shut the blinds so she could be alone. When she had finally woken up the second time, she was as a lot calmer. Too calm. It was almost as if Mel had checked out of her body, and left behind a shell. Her eyes had lost any and all spark of life. Her face became an emotionless-mask. She wouldn't respond to anybody, but would just stare off into space. It almost was like looking at Cameron, but at least Cameron talked and moved.

For the first day, she laid in a fetal position, tears silently streaming down her face. Occasionally, she would moan or sob, but mostly to anyone just walking by the room it would seem as if she was sleeping. But Derek knew better. Each cry tore through him. He felt responsible for her pain. If only if had reached her parents earlier. If only had acted quicker.

John was banned from being around her in case she became violent again, his safety too precious to risk. Derek was secretly pleased that he would not be the one that comforted Mel. When the idea of Cameron taking care of her had come up, Derek strongly refused. There was no way he would let a machine do a job when there were perfectly capable humans around. In the end, the task had fallen on Sarah. Derek would have taken care of her himself, but after what had happened earlier, it didn't seem like that she would want to see him again, so he stayed away. At first he sat outside her door, his head in his hands. That was until he had a talk with Sarah.

Charlie had left specific instructions to Sarah that she should check up on Derek every few hours to make sure that he did not fall asleep due to his concussion. Seeing as it was time, she filled a glass with tap water, took a couple of Tylenols, and headed off to find Derek. She found him outside of Mel's room, pacing. The sound of Mel's low weeping filled the hallway. He jumped a little when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Here," she said, handing him the glass and medicine, "take this. Your head must be killing you."

He took the glass, but shoved the pills back into her palms. "It's not that bad," he lied. He eyed Mel's door before chugging the water. Sweeping his arm across his mouth, he handed the empty glass back and thanked her.

"No problem. Doctor's orders," she replied back. He looked at the door once again before sliding down to ground against the wall across from her room. Sarah sighed as she watched this, before deciding to sit next to him. He really looked like he needed to talk.

After a few moments of silence, Sarah finally spoke. "She'll be fine, you know. Its just shock."

"I know."

Sarah nodded, sneaking a glance at him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

She broke the silence once again."You never told us how you two met."

"Yes, I did," he replied, tired of having the same conversation over and over again. "I told you, I was getting some food from the store when I saw her. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

She nodded. "At the store. Right. A store that you went twenty minutes out of your way to get to, even when there's a store a few minutes from here. What exactly were you doing in that part of town anyways? It's just a residential neighborhood. I checked. There is no one on the list living anywhere near there."

Derek decided to plead the 5th. He knew that anything he would say would just piss off Sarah more and make it seems as if he was staking Mel...even if that was what he had been doing.

His silence fueled her anger. She was tired of having her questions ignored. "We've gone over this already. You don't get to keep secrets, especially not when these secrets effect my son."

"I was not keeping secrets." _...I was was omitting a fact._ "And this has nothing to do with John." _...I don't want her memory with him or you. She's mine._

"You brought a girl that is a key figure in his life here, that also happens to have metal on her tail. We already have Cromarti to worry about, and I'm pretty sure that if this _thing_ sees John, it will shoot him dead. So don't tell it has nothing to do with John cause it has _everything_ to do with him!"

Derek gave a tired sign, still looking straight ahead.. "Sarah, please, just drop it. I'm tired of arguing." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off with another plea, "Please."

She shook her head, and turned to face the door, her finger absently tracing the rim of the glass in her hand.

When she didn't move to get up, Derek knew she wasn't done ringing him out just yet. He might as well get it out of the way. "Is there something else on your mind,_ Sarah_?"

"You're different with her. With Mel," she said, surprising him.

"What you mean?" He turned his head to look at her, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"I don' know," she shrugged, still looking straight ahead, "...softer somehow. More like a normal person, and less like a homicidal maniac."

"Thanks?" He couldn't tell if she meant that as a complement.

"You still love her, don't you? Or, since this is not the same Mel, you've fallen in love with her?"

When he didn't answer, Sarah continued, "That's what I thought. You know that's a bad idea, Derek, don't you? She's John's age. Plus, what's going to happen after the bombs drop, huh? How is she suppose to fall in love with the other you if she is in love with _you_. You can't pursue a relationship with her. It's just going to end badly."

"I know." His whispered reply was so quite that Sarah couldn't be sure she had heard it.

"You need to distance yourself from her, Derek," she said quitly.

"I don't think I can." Pain was clearly etched in his voice. Sarah reached out a hand to comfort him, but he pulled away. Her hand hovered in the air for a few seconds before she brought it back to rest on her knee.

"I'm sorry." Her words were so sincere that Derek almost believed them. Almost.

"Yeah, aren't we all." With that he stood up, and walked away.

For the next few days he spent all his time outside of the house, some times not even bothering to return for the night. The days he would, he'd return late at night, long after the others would be asleep, and leave before they awoke. The only evidence of his stay would be the crumbled blanket strewed over the couch in the morning.

Sarah always knew when he came home. She would wake when the back door would open and close, marking his return. His feet would shuffle down the hallway on his trek to the living room, pausing for a few moments in front of what she guessed was Mel's room before continuing on. The sound of his light snore would lull her to back sleep. She wanted to know to know where he went all day, not out anger, but from concerned.

If she would have asked, he would have told her the answer. What he did really wasn't all that special. He spent his days at the park, waiting and watching his younger self and his brother. The future was so grim for two, with so few stars brightening the horizon. One of those stars was Mel. He wondered that if there was never a war, if there was never a program called Skynet, would he have still met her? Would she have ever love him enough to marry him? Would she still have died? He imagined their life together if the war had never happened. Mel would still have become a doctor—it was in her nature—but he didn't know what he would have done. Probably become a fire fighter, or—he snorted at the idea—god forbid, an actor. They would have a couple of kids that would have drove them both insane, but they would loved nonetheless—kids they never had when had been together. He would have kept her happy. That much he was certain about. She never would have been taken from him, and he would have loved and kissed every wrinkle that graced her beautiful face as they grew old together.

In the middle of his musing, he would catch himself. This "what if" game was pointless and only served to show him all that he lost and could never have again. He would wrench himself off the bench and run as fast and far as he could, letting the exertion clear his thoughts.

On the nights where he didn't come back, he would spend them with Jesse, trying to loose himself in her. On one such night, Sarah called his phone while Jesse was in the shower.

"Derek."

"Sarah." After a few moments of awkward silence, Derek asked, "Was there a reason you called?"

Sarah nodded, then realizing that he couldn't see her, responded, "Yes. I was wondering if you were ever coming home?"

"I've been home. I was there last night," he said defensively.

"You came and left before anyone noticed." She wouldn't admit the reason she wanted him home was she missed his presence. It comforted her when there was someone else other than metal protecting her son...and her. She felt safer when he was around.

Derek sighed at her statement. "Is there something you need, Sarah, or are you calling me just to nag again?"

And there went missing him. "I just wanted to call to make sure you were ok, but _apparently_ you are." She went to hang up the phone, muttering, "I don't even know why I even bothered."

Derek yelled for her not to hang up, so she brought the phone back up to her ear. "Damn, I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, well, aren't we all," she venomously spit back his own words.

After a few moments of silence, he heard Jesse shut off the shower. He quickly tried to end the conversation. "I'll be there tonight." Hesitantly, he continued, "Sarah..."

"Just spit it out, Derek."

"How...How is she? Any improvement?"

He heard her let out a sigh. Her voice softened. "Not much. She's eating a little, but she still won't talk to any one."

"Oh...Ok."

Jesse, wrapped in a towel, walked out of the bathroom in a haze of steam. She smiled at him before dropping the towel to get dressed.

"I'll see you tonight. Bye."

"Bye," Sarah replied before Derek shut the cell close.

xx

He entered the house through the back door, going straight to the fridge for a bottle of water. Quickly twisted off the cap, he chugged the sweet, refreshing liquid, loving the way the it felt as it slid down his hot, parched throat. The drink he missed the most post-J-Day was not sugary soda or a cold beer, but cool, fresh water that had not been recycled out of pee. He turned to refill the bottle from the tap, letting the soothing sound of water running calm him.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah said behind him, causing him to jump and spill water all over himself and the kitchen. She was leaning on the door frame, her arms crossed.

"Jeez, Sarah." He ran a hand over his face, wiping off the water, before running it through his wet hair. He was slightly embarrassed at being caught off guard so easily. "I told you I would be here tonight."

"Its only 6."

"And the sun has gone down. I think that qualifies as night." He screwed the cap back on before putting the bottle back in the fridge.

Annoyance flashed across her face before she composed it. "Right, well," she said as she pushed off the door frame, "dinner is in an hour. Pizza. I expect you to be there. Mel's going to eat with us, so behave."

Surprised, Derek watched as she walked away, thinking that he should have just stayed out. He wasn't sure if he was ready for to face Mel yet.

XX

Time was crawling by so slowly that I thought it had stopped all together. I saw no reason for it to continue. Enclosed in this little room with its dim light, I could almost forget the world and all its horrible events. But then I would think of parents and life. How I would never feel the warm embrace of my mother again as she soothed away my anguish. Or I would hear never hear my father's rambunctious laugh as it echoed off the wall, always bring a smile to my face despite myself. _I was an orphan. _

It wasn't fair. I shouldn't be here, in this place, in this situation. My life was just beginning. I was going away to college in a couple of months. My internship was starting soon. I should be laughing and having fun with friends and family. Not here.

God, I hated how whiny I sounded. Some important person I was going to be. How could I face a war where people died every day, which started with billions dying, if I couldn't even handle this?

Throughout the day my emotions were all over the place. At first I would be blissfully numb, almost in a waking-slumber state. I preferred this state. Then, slowly thoughts would creep into my mind, making me feel as I was on the edge of a black hole that was sucking all the happiness and light from my light, barely clinging on. Guilt mixed with intense sorrow would flood my mind. If I had just died, then my parents would still be alive. Wasn't one life lost better than two? I wouldn't notice I was crying until I would taste the salty water on my lips as it slide down my face on its way to stain the pillows. Then I would feel disgusted and angry with myself at how I was acting. I rarely cried or showed weakness. Just as quick as it came, my anger would ebb away back to numb nothingness, and then the cycle would start all over again.

Thankfully, I was left alone most of the time. Every once in awhile though, Sarah would come in with something to drink and, and try to talk to me. Ashamed at my behavior and probable disheveled appearance, I would look straight ahead, trying to avoid her eyes. I didn't want to see the pity that was sure to be present in her stare. I would obediently drink what ever she brought, but as soon as she tried to get me to eat, I would protest. In the end, I would only take a few bites before I turning my face, just sick of the thought of eating more.

After a few moments in her presence, I would grow tired of the company, willing her to go away. Her small talk give me a headache, and I didn't want to be around anyone right now. Growing tired of the one-sided conversation, she would sigh, and get up to leave, but not before squeezing my hand and telling me that I should not hesitate to call for her if I needed anything. She would shut the door after leaving, plunging me back into my misery.

Her visits were usually very short, so I was surprised when she didn't move from the bed after a few minutes.

"Mel, I know what you're going is very tough, but you can't go on like this forever. It's been two weeks." Had so much time really passed? "I'm sure that you're parents wouldn't want see you like this.

Now I'm not saying that you stop grieving for them. I know how big of a loss you've experienced, but...don't you think it's time that you tried...shouldn't you start to talk to people. It might do you some good." I see from the corner of my eye how uncomfortable she was talking about this. It seemed as if she rarely reached to out to people like this, and didn't want to do this right now.

When I didn't respond, she turned to a different tactic. Her eyes and tone hardened as she continued, "I'm not asking. Enough is enough. You need to get off this bed, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We all loss something dear to us. We all have given up our lives to fight Skynet. But we all bucked up, and got over it! And, damn it, you need to, too! There is no time for weakness during a war!"

Her words just confirmed what I was feeling. I was pathetic. I chanced looked at her face, but quickly looked away unable to bear what I saw there. Her angry look brought more unwanted tears to my eyes. I hurriedly wiped them away on my arm.

"Do you think Skynet stops to grieve for its fallen soldiers? No! It does not rest. It does not feel pity or remorse. It does not grieve. It will not stop until it rids the world of everyone last one of us! You need to be strong if you're going to survive what's coming."

She took a deep breath then, and got up, still looking down at me. At the sight of my tears her voice softened. "I know I'm being hard, but it's for your own good."

I nodded, still trying to force the tears back.

"Dinner is in an hour. I know you're appetite is still not back yet, but maybe some company will bring it back. You're expected to eat with all of us at the table. No excuses. I've left some towels and clothes in the hallway bathroom. A shower will help you relax."

I sat in bed for a few minutes after she left, trying to get a grip on myself. She was right. People's parents die all the time. Lives were torn apart and slowly rebuilt. I was nothing special, my pain no where out of the ordinary. Others don't break down and act like me. I had no right to behave like I was.

I got out of bed and stretched. My body was aching from being so inactive. A few joints cracked. My body was use to being active, not sleeping all day. I walked to the door and paused, my hand on the door knob. This was it. Once I opened the door there was no going back. I would have to start, and try to move forward. I contemplated hiding under the covers. I shook my head. There was no use. Sarah would probably drag me out of the bed.

I prayed that no one was out there in the hallway. Slowly, I creaked open the door a little, and looked. Thankfully it was empty. Hurrying down the hall, I slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. There on closed lid of the toilet laid a towel and some clothing. Barely giving them a glance, I turned on the shower. Quickly I stripped, taking care not to look at my reflection in the mirror. I knew I wouldn't like what I saw there. I jumped into the hot shower and let the water cascade over me, turning so the force of it hit my back. I stood like that for a long time, just letting the feel of it try and take my pain away. But it was no use. I still felt crappy as ever. All too soon the water started to cool. I washed my body and hair, eager to finish. I stepped out, and got dressed, the steam making the clothes stick to my body. Surprisingly, the clothes fit me to a T. I brushed it off thinking it might be because I was the same size as one of the other women. Then I noticed that the bra and underwear was new. There was no way I was the same size as them in that department, too. How the hell had the measured that? I shook my head, dispelling the thought. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Throwing the clothes in the hamper, I walked out. It was time to face the music.

I walked into the kitchen, surprised to see everyone already there. I guess I had taken longer then I initially thought in the shower. It had only felt like 10 minutes. Cameron was sitting next to John, both sitting with their backs to me. Sarah sat on Cameron's left at the head of the table. Derek was opposite of John. He was addressing them in hushed tones. His eyes flashed to mine as soon as I walked in, and he stopped talking immediately. As soon as our eyes met, he looked away. It was strange, but he almost looked guilty. I had no idea what he had to be guilty about in regards to me. I guess it might have been because they had been talking about me. When he stopped talking, they all turned to look in my directions. I stood awkwardly at the doorway before John spoke.

"Hi," he said tentatively. I hated that careful tone, sounding as if I was some fragile, crazed person. I gave a quick, small smile before looking back at the floor. "We're having pizza. Why don't you join us?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and nodded. I looked around the table. There was only one seat empty, and, to my disappointment, it was between John and Derek at the end of the table, right across from Sarah. I took the seat and looked only at the plate in front of me. It made me uncomfortable being so close to Derek. He made me feel like he was expecting something from me, waiting for me to be something, but I, for the life of me, had no clue what it was. I heard him fidget in his chair as he gave a nervous cough. I guess he was just as uncomfortable. Sifting again, I heard a a thud as he put something heavy on the table. I look up just a little, curious as to what it is. My heart stopped when I saw it.

A gun.

I can't tear my eyes from. It was a Glock 17. I recognized it because it was similar to the one I used at the shooting range my dad took me to. My dad was a big fan of hunting and guns. We regularly went on hunting trips together. He started taking me to the range when I was 16, but I knew how to shoot long before that. I was a pretty good shot, winning competitions regularly. It was something we really had bonded on.

I slowly reached out a hand to caress the handle. Derek caught me looking at it, and smiled.

"Do you like it?" I just looked at him, before looking back at the gun again. I picked it up, and held it in my lap, running my figures over its beautiful, cool, metal barrel. I could tell it was loaded by the weight of it. It felt good in my hands. I almost felt safe and calm.

"If you want, I could teach you how to shoot. Its skill you should know." I nodded absently, not really hearing a word he had said, a plan forming in my head.

I looked up at the table. No one else was really paying attention. Sarah and John were in their own little world, eating, while Cameron was just staring straight ahead. I stared back at the gun. Could I really do it?

I wondered how it would feel. Would it hurt as the bullet entered my head? Would I instantly die? I once heard somewhere how even after someone got there head cut off, they would still be alive, almost like a dead chicken. The might be bad, but it would be worth it. Afterwards, though, where would I go? Heaven, hell, or would I just fade into nothingness?

It would be so easy. I was pretty sure I could pull the trigger before any of them even knew what was going on. I mean, what was there to live for? Everything was taken from me, and all I had to look forward to was a nuclear holocaust and being hunted down like an animal. It would just be easier if I ended it here. I really couldn't see another option.

I look a deep, and looked around one last time. John and Sarah were still unaware of what was going on, but this time, Cameron was looking right at me, curiosity obscuring her features. It was almost like she knew what I was going to do. If she did, I had to act quickly. Finally, my eyes stopped at Derek. He would be affected the most. His past, my future would never exist. If I died, then I would never meet and marry him the future. From the sound of it, he had really loved me. I hated taking something like that away from him. He had done so much for me. But you can't miss some thing you never knew. This Derek would be hurt by my actions, but the present-day Derek, where ever he was, would never know the difference. No one would. Like I said before: it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

It was now or never. A slow smile spread across my face as I realized the pain would finally end. Derek face lit up in a smile, thinking my smile was for him. I was glad that that the last thing I would see was his happiness, however brief it was. But as I moved, it transformed into growing horror as I quickly cocked the gun and brought it to my temple. I closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger.

"NO--" Derek's scream was drown out by the sound of the bullet as it existed the chamber.

_**A/N II: **evil laugh** Don't you just love cliff hangers? :) BTW, the title does not refer to the gun being blank. He he he.**_


	9. Ch 7: Dogtags

_**A/N: Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to take so long to update. I lost track of time. Sunny days after seven continuous days of non-stop day does that to a person.**_

_**Four votes. Wow. Touched with the enthusiasm y'all are sending in waves. (Heavy on the sarcasm there if you didn't notice). Well, whatever. Like I told those who did respond, I am posting what would have been the first chapter of the sequel as an extra/outtake. I wrote a hefty amount of it already a while ago, and I didn't want it to go to waste.**_

_**Also, I know Mel's little speech is stupid and uninspiring. Please don't rain on my parade and tell me how much it sucks. **cough** MR-TR **cough**. Just ignore it. Thank you.**_

_**I have no clue how to fire a gun. Hell, I've never even held one before. I kinda hate them. So excuse me if I get any technicalities wrong.**_

_**Songs: "Till Kingdom Come" by Coldplay, "If I Ever Leave This World Alive" by Floggin' Molly, and "Pressure suit" by Aqualung. All great songs that go perfectly with the story Derek tells. There are other songs. Check out my playlist to listen to more.**_

* * *

There can be a lot said about grief. It can twist and grow inside a man like a weed, ruining the bright, colorful fruits of happiness that life has to offer. It can scar a person so deep that all that is left is a charred shell of their previous self, driving them to do the most uncharacteristic things. Take for example young Mel. Before the unfortunate loss of parents consumed her every waking thoughts, she had such concrete thoughts of suicide during her absurdly simple, happy life. Everything was black and white, right or wrong—no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The answer was plain and simple: IT WAS WRONG. No matter how bleak life may seem, there is always another option. You can always fight. Derek had heard her preach about this subject countless times over the years.

Her most famous speech about it was on the blackest, never-ending night when the great General John Connor had been captured by Skynet during a rescue operation. None knew if he was still alive, and the masses were quickly loosing hope.

"There is no way we can win this war," they cried. "Skynet has taken our only defense. We are already dead." Some were contemplating killing their young children before doing the same to themselves. Might as well end the misery before it starts. Anything was better than the death camps.

But she would have none of it. She stood before the crowd. Those there to witness her speech would talk of how even though many stood taller than her 5'5" frame, she seemed to tower above those around her. Such was her presence. Her hazel had harden with a steely resolve. The bare whisper of her voice would not have been heard under normal circumstances; nevertheless, everyone quieted to hear.

"Do not lose hope. All is not loss. Yes, tonight we have suffered a great blow, but, remember, we have yet not fallen. John Connor is great man, a great leader, and has been captured. We do not if is dead, but I do know this. If he was standing here with us right now, he would tell us to keep fighting. There are still many battles left to fight before we will even _think_ about defeat. I love John, but must you understand. He is but just an ordinary human being like rest of us. But to you all, General Connor is a symbol of our hope and determination to survive, and like all symbols, he is nothing without the meaning. We _are_ the meaning. He looked up to each and everyone of you and marveled at _your_ strength and _your_ courage to fight to live. To fight for everything you believe in. We are the reason that John has given his whole life fighting. I plead to you, do not cast aside such a gesture. Do _not_ give up. _We will win_! If for nothing else, then for John Connor. I, for one will not—cannot give up until Skynet is gone! There is a future without Skynet! We are not so easily broken down. All Skynet has ultimately done is anger us. And I promise you, we will not rest until we have our revenge. Until we watch every last one of those walking toasters burn!"

To her, the speech was nothing special. It was just reiterating what everyone knew in their hearts. But to those who watched and listened to this kind women speak with such ruthless conviction and furiousness, it was a speech that give them the resolve to keep going.

So when Derek put his gun down the table that day, it never occurred to him that she might try to take her own life. It was reckless on his part to not even consider the idea. _He just didn't think_.

After Sarah had basically ordered him to attend dinner, he had quietly exited the house to practice aiming to try and calm his nerves. The tension of the past few days were really started to getting to him, and he needed the release that shooting the hell of something provided.

The clan had already settled down on the table when he entered the kitchen.

"You're late," Sarah commented, handing him a plate as he sat down in his usual seat across from John, pausing to look at the extra empty seat beside him. There was only one person who it as meant for, and he cursed himself for having to sit so close to her. For someone who was so against Mel and him having any contact, Sarah was sure trying her darnedest to throw them together every chance she got. He took hope in the fact that the chair was still empty, and that, maybe, she would never come to eat with them at all. It would be torture to sit so close to her, and not have any contact.

The clock on the wall showed that it was only 6:02. It was just like Sarah to be so anal, making him feel like a teenage who had broken curfew. Without looking up, he gabbed a slice of pizza, and began eating. He was so preoccupied with shoving food in his mouth that he didn't notice that no one had started eating until he stopped to take a swing of his beer. They were all looking at him expectantly—even Cameron. There could only be one thing that they wanted to know about, and he didn't want to talk about. Sarah was just about to open her mouth when he cut her off.

"Has anyone got anywhere with the writing on the basement wall?"

Sarah shook her head in disappointment at his obvious avoidance.

"No. Kinda been distracted with M—all that's going on lately," John answered.

Derek nodded as he took another sip of his drink. "I think I might have figured out a lead while I was... out."

John and Sarah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What is it?" Cameron asked .

"Those numbers," Derek continued. "I don't know why I, or hell, _you_," he gestured toward Cam, "didn't notice it earlier. It has the same number of numbers that you bastards assign us at one of the Skynet work camp. There are exactly 12 numbers just like the ones on my barcode. I think they're trying to point us in the direction of prisoner. "

John snorted. "Well, a lot of hell that does us right now. It's not like we can get records of a camp that doesn't even yet."

"Maybe..." Derek shook his head. "No. They know we don't have direct intell. It has to be a number that either me or tin miss here already knows. Once I figured out what they were, the sequence kinda looked familiar. Do the numbers match up to any prisoner number in your data?"

Cameron started blankly ahead as she tried to accessed her files. For some reason, General Connor had not erased those files from her memory. She guessed it was exactly for this purpose. The only problem was that there were a lot of files to sort through. It would take some time to try to find the exact number. She told them so.

"Damn." He was really hoping that he could find out right now. "Well, try to hurry up. We don't know if there might be a machine after that person. Either way, I'll try to see if I can remember wh—"

That was when he noticed Mel standing in the doorway watching them. Her hair was wet as it clung to her face. Even from this distance he could tell that she looked like hell. There were dark circles under her eyes that cast a deep contrast to her too-pale face. Her eyes were the worst. They almost looked dead, devoid of any real feeling. She was a living corpse. He quickly looked down when noticed he was staring at her.

From the edge of his vision he watched as everyone turned to look at her. Anger swelled in his chest, making him want to hit everyone so they would look forward again. She hated when people stared at her.

"Hi. We're having pizza. Why don't you join us?" John greeted, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Residual annoyance at John flared in Derek. Mel was bringing out old negative feeling towards John—or at least, _this_ John that he hadn't felt since first coming to live with the Connors.

Mel shuffled towards Derek, who panicked before realizing she was only coming to sit at the only empty seat. As she sat down, her leg briefly brushed against Derek's. He coughed to hide his blush, scraping his chair across the linoleum floor away from her to create some distance. There she went again, making him feel this he hadn't felt in so long. This damn roller coaster of feelings was starting to really get to him.

Saying the whole freaking situation was awkward was like saying a fat women in tight, neon-green spandex might be a tad bit unsightly—it was a huge understatement. Everything discomfort was grossly magnified ten-fold. The hot air blowing from the heater became suffocating. Beads of sweat caused an irritating tickle as they traveled down his neck and back. The usually unnoticeable gun in the back of his jeans now dug painfully into his skin. He wiped his brow as he put the gun on the table.

Just as he was about to take a bite, he noticed Mel staring at his gun. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion as she slowly reached a hand across to caress the handle. It was the first emotion Derek had seen her express in so long that he couldn't help but smile.

"Do you like it?" he asked timidly. He could feel Sarah's eyes baring into his back at the forbidden interaction. Mel looked at him, uncaring, blinking once slowly before turning her attention back to the gun. She picked it up gingerly, almost looking like as if she was afraid of it going off just by holding it. His smile widen at the action.

It struck him that maybe she didn't know how to use a gun. She probably never even fired one before. It was such a strange concept; Mel was the one who taught him how to shoot a gun properly. Before, he use to shoot the gun, which he had been lucky enough to find in the first place, blindly at his target. It would rarely ever hit its intended target. She had taught him to always firmly hold the gun with both hands instead of with one, like one of those idiots on TV. How not to tense his shoulders so they can better absorb the shock of the gun when it fires. If not for her, he probably would died from a self-inflicted gun wound. That would have made the boys happy.

"If you want, I could teach you how to shoot. It's a skill you should know." How twisted would it be if he was the one who taught the person who taught him how to shoot? To his pleasure, she nodded yes.

She looked up then, glancing around before turning to look at Derek. He could tell she was really excited by his plan. Her eyes were alight with happiness. A small smile tugged at her lips. It was as if she was slowly coming back to life. This was what she had needed. Something to do, not sitting around stewing on what was happening. Sarah didn't know how to take care of her like he did. He should never have listen to Sarah. He should never have left her when she needed him. He mirrored her smile, happy that _finally_ she would be moving past her grief and coming back to him. Then, the unthinkable happened.

Before his very eyes, he watched as Mel expertly released the safety and brought the gun to her right temple. She screwed her eyes shut. His mind went blank with surprise as his training went into effect. Quickly, he grabbed the barrel of the gun, pointing it towards the ceiling. Smoke billowed out of the barrel toward the ceiling, which now had a gaping bullet hole.

A beat passed as everyone just froze in place. Slowly, Mel opened her eyes. She looked confused as to why she was still alive, before turning to look at her hand, which was now empty. Derek emptied the gun of its cartridge before slamming it on the table.

_Failure_. All emotion drained from her face as she lowered her hand.

Derek watched as took she took a deep breathe, and looked at her lap as if nothing happened. As if she hadn't just tried to redecorate the walls with her brain. He snapped, grabbing a hold of Mel, spinning her around to face him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shook her. The force of it caused her head to roll. "Why the hell would do that?!"

Sarah quickly got up, trying to pry Derek off of Mel. "Derek!"

"Why?! ANSWER ME DAMMIT!!" Mel didn't even flinch at volume of his voice. She just let him continue to shake roughly. Her casual submission pissed him off more. "WHY?!"

"Derek! OFF, RIGHT NOW. YOU'RE HURTING HER!" Sarah yelled over his voice.

When Sarah's words registered, he let go of her quickly and stepped back. "Oh god. Mel. I'm so sorry."

Tears started to spill down her face. She didn't want them to see her cry anymore. It was bad enough that they had seen her break down twice already. With a sob, she ran from the room.

"Mel!" he called after her, but she wouldn't listen.

He moved to follow her, but Sarah quickly to block his path.

"Move."

"No. I'll take care of it." She turned to leave, but Derek grabbed her arm in a painful grip, pulling her so that there was only inch between their faces. Sarah was taken back by the look on his face. Never before had she seen so much anger and hate there.

"I'm going, and you can't stop me. Look what happened the last time you 'took care of it'. There's no way in hell I'm ever leaving her with you again." He threw her from his grasp, making her stumble. Sidestepping her, he moved into the living room where Mel sat, crying silently as she rocked back and forth. He stood at the other end of the couch observing her.

"Mel?" he said cautiously. When she didn't respond, he continued. "Mel, talk to me. _Please."_ Her only response was a sob. He moved to kneel in front of her, trying to look at her face, but she kept looking away. "Why did you do that, Mel?"

She shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle.

"Mel." Gently, he grabbed her face to look at him. "Answer me. Why?"

Exhaling, her words rushed out. "It's not going to happen."

Confused, he asked, "What's not going to happen?"

"_Me_. I'm not going to turn out like everyone says I am. I can't do all that." Wrenching her face out of his grip, she looked away, unable to see the pity in his eyes. "God, such a disappointment I must be. I'm such a mess. I should be stronger. I should be—"

"No, all you should be is alive. That's all that matters." He rose out of his position. He took a blank that was throw haphazardly across the couch, wrapping it around her shivering fram. Sitting down at the far end of the couch, he ran a hand over his face. "Look, Mel, I know it all seems like its too much right now. That there's no way you be what you need to be, but trust me. You will. You'll do things things no one else can do. Amazing things. I've seen it."

"How?" she sobbed.

"By taking it one step at a time. You won't just wake up one day, and figure everything out. It will be hard, but there will be help along the way. You won't be alone. John will be there...and so will I."

Mel simply nodded at his words, not truly believing them. He knew that. But he didn't know what he could say to make her see that everything—her struggles, her pain—would be worth it in the end. Silence stretched out between them, only punctuated by the occasional whimper from Mel.

"Tell me something good," Mel suddenly said, hugging her knees to her chest as if she was trying to hold her self together.

"_What_?" Derek said, turning to scrutinize her.

"Anything good about my future. Something to look forward to so that I know that's not all bad." She started to rock back and forth again, trembling slightly. "Tell me about the day we got married."

He stared at her in shock. "How did you find out?"

She contemplated about telling him the truth, but instead went with, "It doesn't matter."

When it look as if he wouldn't continue, she pleaded, "Please, Derek."

He stared at her for a long time before turning his head to look straight ahead, shifting on the couch. He let out a long sigh. A far off look lighted his eyes, as if he was lost somewhere else. "In the future, a wedding isn't what it is here, now. There are no large, fancy weddings. No big, white dresses and sleek, black tuxedos. No cake. No one would throw rice, 'cause let's face it, why throw away food when you could eat it. You'd be lucky if you even had water to drink that day, let alone champagne. Usually all people do is come to an agreement and they're married. No ceremony or paper to sign. Just a … 'Will you marry me?' and a 'yes,' and you're married. People wouldn't exchange rings. If you were in the army, you might exchange dog tags, but that's it. It's rare though—people getting married. No one wants that burden to have to take care of someone else. And if children became involved... Plus, who wants to become a widow, you know?

"We had been together for a while now. Officially involved. We'd been friends long before that. Or more like competitors." He let out a short laugh then. "We'd fight all the time. You'd say that was how we flirted, like a boy who would pull on a girl's pigtails to show how much he liked her. Always trading insults and trying to one-up each other. Kyle use to tell us to screw each other and get it over with already so he could finally have some peace and quite. That always earned him a black-eye.

"One day I had caught you _flirting_ with this _officer_—I don't even remember the jackass's name. I just remember getting so pissed that I got up and clocked the guy. You were so furious! Yelled at me for a good ten minutes before I grabbed and kissed you. You just stood there for a moment, shocked, before kicked me in the groin and walked away. It was worth it though.

"Anyways, like I said, we'd been together for awhile now when you got sent out on some mission for Connor. It was only supposed to be a 48-hour thing, but after the fifth day... I had never been so scared in my life. I thought... I thought that you had gotten captured and taken to a Skynet camp. I wanted to grab a search team and try to find you, but _Connor_," he said the name like it was a dirty word, "said he couldn't to put his men in danger when he didn't know if you were alive. I almost killed him when he said that. They had to drag me away kicking and screaming. He was like you're brother for god's sake, and he couldn't _afford_ to go looking for his own family?! "

It was another _three_ _days_ before you finally stumbled back into camp. A HK had found you're team, and killed most of your team. You got knocked out, but somehow you weren't found by them under all the rubble. Guess the metal thought they had finished you off and decided to move on. A little girl had found you while scavenging for food topside. She dragged you to her little hideout, gave you little of the food and water she had, and nursed you back to health. When you had gotten enough strength, you guys headed back for camp."

"What was the girls name?" Mel whispered. Derek jump and looked at her as if he had forgotten she was even there.

"Allison. Allison Young. She was the girl that Cameron killed, and took the identity off. She's an exact copy physically"

Mel looked horrified at his admission.

"After that day, you took her—Alli I mean, under your wing. Became her mentor and mother practically." Derek faced forward again and immersed himself in the past. "You taught her how to shoot, to read. She became your assistant in the medic lab. In your free time, you would teach her ballet, saying that she needed to learn something beautiful around all this ugliness. I just loved watching you both dance,twirling and dipping in the most graceful way. It was _so _beautiful... After you came back, I knew—just _knew_ I couldn't live without you anymore. So, I asked you to marry me. You said yes of course, but you wanted a little favor—a wedding like the old times, or at least as close to one as you could get. I still don't know how you got everything together. It was a small little ceremony held in the strategy room.

"You berated Connor for days until he gave in and agreed to marry us. Kate was your maid-of-honor, Kyle my best-man. You took a bed sheet from the infirmary and bleached it as close to white as you could get it and made a dress out of it. Nothing complicated, but I could never forget how you looked in it. You truly looked like my saving angel—so beautiful. I wore my uniform, washed for once. By some miracle you had managed to find these silk flowers that you used for a bouquet. We exchanged the traditional vows with our own little spin on it, and then exchanged our dog tags. Someone had a guitar and sang this beautiful little Irish song. Don't know what it was called, but it fit the mood. We danced to it while whisper-sang the words to me. I had never seen you so happy. _I _had never been so happy...," Derek finished, looking in Mel's eyes for the first time.

There was something in his eyes that Mel couldn't recognize. It was a mixture of pain, sadness, and something else. Was it...longing? The pain and sadness was so intense that she was captured in place. She could look away or move. A strange feeling started to build up inside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Hold him, calm him. Sooth away the hurt. Take his pain unto herself and replace it with happiness. It was as if his hurt was slowly becoming her pain. Slowly, hesitantly, she disentangled a hand from the blanket covering her and reached out towards him. All the while he just kept looking at her, entrancing her. She gently touched his brow, caressing it before pulling back. Derek didn't move an inch. Again, she reached out and touched him, this time cupping his cheek, rubbing her thumb in soothing circles. The stubble on his face scratched her soft palms. Derek finally moved, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. Almost like a reflex, he reached up and covered her hand to keep it in place. It was so familiar and he had missed it so much. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with her sweet scent that he had lived so long without.

All of a sudden without warning, Mel leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't a deep kiss, just a quick one that lasted all of but two seconds. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly returned it with the gentlest pressure of his lips. He could taste the salt of the tears that had run down her face, and feel the warmth of her soft lips as they pressed against his rough ones. When she pulled back, her eyes went wide with disbelief.

"I..I..just...," Mel mumbled, not looking at him. But before Derek could make any sort of reply, she pulled her hand away from his grasp, and rushed out of the room.

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_**A/N: Awwww. Now someone hand me a bucket so I can barf.**_


	10. OUTTAKE

_**A/N: Hi y'all. I wasn't really in the mood to finish writing the next chapter of the story, so instead I decide to post this little tidbit to placate you 'til I get around to completing it. I never finished writing this, cause..well... there was no point. I didn't want to waste my time finishing it.**_

_**So, as I promised, here's Mel's story. It started off after an unknown number of Judgment Day and followed up until her death. It was a lot darker than PND (notice the usages of past tense cause, like y'all know, this story is now a no-go. Blame the readers who didn't even bother to vote.) My inspiration for life after JD is a book called "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy, a haunting story of a father who tries to keep alive his son after an undisclosed event that set fire to the world around them. He's the same guy who wrote the novel called "No Country for Old Men", which has now been made into a movie. I recommend the book to everyone with a warning—it is, at certain points, downright nauseatingly scary and just plain sickening. It sure as hell ain't for the faint-of-heart. So go ahead—read it, have nightmares. I sure as hell did.**_

_**I know A LOT of you are going to hate Mel for this, so all I can say is this: come on, like you didn't see this coming. And in her defense, its was a one time thing in a moment of weakness and vulnerability. Contrary to Derek thinks, she isn't perfect, and makes mistakes like everyone else.**_

_**Now, just so you know, there will be few questions I will not answer, so don't even bother asking. Questions like: "Where's Derek from PND?", "They had a baby?" or "Why is a baby no longer a possibility?". In fact, anything about Derek is unanswerable. Deal with it, people. **_

_**Songs: Figure it out yourselves. I'm tired of doing all the work around here while y'all sit around reading... you know I love y'all, right? :)**_

**CH 1: DESERTED**

_She awoke in the middle of the night, the wind howling against her window like a caged animal begging for release. Icy daggers of the night cut into her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. Shadows crawled from the recess, their fingers stretched ready to drag her into their dark hell. She slipped out of bed, hesitantly putting her feet on the floor, a long forgotten childhood fear that something laid waiting, ready to snatch her away to its hiding place under the floorboards taking hold of her She looked towards door at the far end of the room. There was light beneath there, beckoning her to find out the truth that hid behind only if she was brave enough to see. She walked to it, twisting the knob and pulling it open, only to find...nothing. Whatever laid their waiting had long ago abandoned post. Walking through the house, she called for its inhabitants. Nothing answered but the moaning wind._

_Then she heard it. A wail. So faint that she thought it was the wind until she heard it again. She moved towards the sound, changing her direction every now and then to accommodate it. When she got the back doors in the kitchen, the noise vanished as quickly as it had come. Turning her head this way and that, she searched for it with her ears. It came again after a few moments from behind the back doors, originating for the outside. Bracing the door from the wind, she opened the door, expecting night to wrap a cold hand around her. Instead, she found a bright, warm day. The noon sun was shinning on the green grass and a colorful garden as butterflies fluttered lazily on their own little quest. In the middle the lawn sat a boy on a checkered blanket, no older than 15 months old, the light reflecting off his bright, golden hair at an almost blinding brilliance. As soon he saw her, he stop crying and smiled, his dimples cut deep in his chubby cheeks, his green eyes sparkling. He reached out his stubby, little arms, cooing, expecting her to run and twirl him in her arms. The feeling he invoked was so familiar. She should _know_ him. Suddenly, everything clicked together as if the pieces of a puzzle moved on their own to become whole. _Hers. Derek's. Their's_. The notion was so strong. How could she have forgotten? It was so foolish. Her arms ached to feel the weight of him. As she rushed forward, he started crying, tears and snot blubbering down his face again as he shook with fear of something behind her. What could it be? She turned to look behind. _

_There. A skeleton of metal loomed in the distance, a storm raging behind him. Dark, rolling clouds bashed together by the howling wind, causing a monstrous sound to echo around as blinding, red flashes of lighting illuminated the sky and the machine, casting an eerie glow. The next batch of sinister light struck, glinting off the figure as it raised a metallic hand to point a gun at her. No, not her. Him. She tried to move to block its path, but she was stuck. Looking down, she saw metal vines creep over her legs, twisting and combining as they caged them. She tore at them, her fingers bloody, only to have them replaced by more. She looked up, and screamed, but nothing rang forth from her. _

"_Not him!" she cried soundlessly, "Please! Not him! It's me you're looking for! Me! Not him! Shoot me!"_

_It turned its head a fracture of an inch, cocking it to the side, evaluating at her, it's blood red eyes starting into her soul, emptying it. It stood like that for a minute, lulling her into a false sense of security, before turning back to the child. Though its features were frozen in an eternal blank state, she swore she saw it smile sinisterly, almost like it was enjoying the pain its actioned were causing. It squeezed the trigger, and she screamed. She screamed. She screamed._

She screamed as she jolted awake. Sweat mixed with tears as they slid down her face. _It was only a dream. It was only a dream_, she chanted reassuringly to herself. Of course it was only a dream. Their could be no other possibility. There was never a child, and there will be never one. That hope had died with all the other souls as the bombs dropped out the sky on Judgment Day so long ago. She had lost count of exactly how may days sometime after three months. Time had stopped to mean anything.

Her body was drenched. She wanted—no, _needed_ a shower, but there was none. No water to spare. There might not even be enough to last their journey.

Turning to her side, she searched for her only comfort. There, across the fire he sat against a stone wall, a shotgun in his hand as his eyes searched their surroundings for any dangers. The gun was just a precaution, a prop to ward off any wary travels. It wouldn't help if any real danger came. He hadn't jolted at her screams or even showed any sign that he had heard them. No reason to. They were as common place now among them both as the ash that coated the ground.

His eyes continued their track back across the camp, stopping only to acknowledge her with a nod. Nodding back, she sat up, pulling up her legs up and resting her elbow on her knees. A large yawn escaped. She doubted she had gotten more than three hours of sleep. She needed more, but she knew she wouldn't be able. Her throat was parched. Her hands skirted the ground, searching the area around her for the canteen. He thrust his to her. Mumbling a thanks, she took a measure sip. Then another. The small measure of water had hardly quenched her thirst, but at least it didn't hurt as much anymore. Handing it back, she looked at the man across from her.

Uncontaminated food was hard to come by, and it showed. His face was all angles: sharp chin with predominate cheekbones, thin nose along with thin, capped lips. It had lost roundness of boyhood. His skin was stretched giving him a look of being weak and fragile, but one look into his eyes dispelled that idea. The color of sea foam, they took in everything. They always had a questioning look, as if to say, "_Are you sure? Are you telling the truth?"_. They held power in them, forcing all to look away first, to make them succumb to his will. What they didn't have, at least not anymore, was innocence. The innocent, naïve hope that somehow he could stop the future and live a normal life. Instead hope filled them. Hope to fight the future and win this godforsaken war once and for all. He was no longer the boy that ran from his responsibilities, but the man that faced them head on with all the strength and cunning he had. John Connor had become _the_ John Connor.

When the skies had caught fire, they traveled deep into the mountains to a fallout shelter they had found abandoned long ago, where they had stocked enough supplies to last them the wait until the radiation decreased to a safe level. A vegetable garden provided any fresh produce that would needed while a storage of freeze-dried and can foods was set aside should the need arise. Sarah had stayed behind in LA, stating she had some unfinished business to attend to before she would join them. She never returned.

Those were dark times. Both refused to believe that Sarah had chose to parish along with the rest of the world. Deep down Mel knew the truth. Sarah had fought with all her heart, soul, mind, and body for such a long time. She was tired, and just wanted to rest. There was nothing more left to teach her son, and, if she stayed, she would become a hindrance with her condition. Though she had tried to hide it from her son as much as she could, the cancer Cameron had warned about so long ago had finally taken its toll. Some days the pain in her old bones would be so intense she could hardly get out of bed.

They remained at the shelter much longer than they should have waiting for her, hoping. Just hoping. Food had run out, and they had started to dip into the supply set aside for their journey. John knew what he had to do, but he couldn't leave behind his only remaining flesh and blood. Finally breaking down and relenting to the inevitable, he sat on the small cot letting out all his anguish and pain. The house shook with his sobs as he sat hunched over, rocking back and forth, desperately, painfully pulling his hair. Anything to distract from his emotional pain.

When Mel tried to stop him, reaching out a hand to calm his, he flinched away from her touch. Several times she tried to comfort him before giving up and doing the only thing she could. Pushing his chest back so he was sitting upright, she crawled into his lap, straddling him, and wrapped her arms tightly around him, trapping his arms between them. His body tensed before trying to pull away in vain. Mel just held him all that much tighter. After what felt like forever, John relaxed into her embrace, and held her close to him, burying his face in her shoulder, holding on for dear life. She ran her fingers through his disheveled, spiky hair. Somewhere along the line their actions ceased to be about comforting each other and become more.

It started out with Mel giving a simple kiss on the forehead. A few moments later she kissed his eyes. Then she moved on to kiss away a tear on his cheek. She hadn't meant it as anything more than a friendly, soothing kiss, but as soon as she did, she felt something shift. Her lips lingered a couple of seconds longer than they should have. Slowly, she pulled back until they were a few inches apart so she could look into John's eyes, whose gaze was intently locked on her lips. He waited a beat before he closed the distance, hesitantly brushing his lips against hers before deepening the kiss.

She should have pulled away. She should have stopped him when he laid her down on the bed, or when he nestled between her legs, but she she didn't. She couldn't. Because the truth was, she needed this as much as he did. There were so few beating hearts left that she wanted to feel one beating against hers to know that she wasn't alone. Almost everyone she had ever loved had abandoned her, except John.

She woke up early the next morning wrapped tightly in his arms. The first thought that popped in her mind was that the body pressed against hers was Derek. Her mind was still clouded with sleep as she nuzzled closer to him, trailing her nose up the side of his chest with a smile on her face, before freezing with realization of her mistake. Slowly, so not to wake him, she rolled out of the bed and practically ran to the bathroom, shutting the door with a small click. Sobs shook her body as the guilt of her action washed over her. She covered her mouth to stifle the noise.

It was stupid—she wasn't in any relationship with Derek, past or present version. She hadn't done anything wrong, but the logic became irrelevant. How could she ever face Derek now? She sure as hell couldn't look him in the eye and still claim nothing ever happened between John and her—that they were like siblings. Brothers and sisters sure as hell never do what they had done last. But she could tell him what really happened. He would never understand that it was circumstantial, and it sure as hell would never, _never_ happen again. No, as much as she hated doing it, she was going to have act like it never took place, and if had to, she would lie.

Quietly, she walked out of the bathroom, and began the final preparation for the departure. If John was puzzled about her sudden change in demeanor and distance, he hadn't comment on it since then. In fact, the only acknowledgment he made at all of what happened that night was he lack of any physical contact unless it was necessary. It hurt. She didn't realize how much they comforted each with little touches before. Now that it had stopped, she couldn't help but notice how much she needed those casual hugs and touches to help calm her. But there was nothing she could do about it.

A loud clap of thunder broke her out of her trance. Acid rain pelted the ground in a fury, eroding the rubble around the cliff they were sheltered under. It was too close to her for comfort so she shifted over to sit beside John, taking care to keep a foot of distance between them. The smell of mud and rust permeated the air creating a stuffy, pleasing aroma. John's eyes drooped, lulled further by the pitter-patter of the rain drops. Mel knew better than to try and get him to rest. An argument was sure to ensue with that line of thought.

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by another bout of thunder as Mel shuddered. The current storm reminded her too much of her recent nightmare.

John broke the silence with a ghost of a chuckle. Mel turned to him, a curious smirk on her face.

He noted her confusion, and explain, "Just thinking about when I was little and it would storm like this. Just a hint of thunder and I would dash under the nearest table, scared out of my mind of the noise. I use to think the sky was falling or something."

"Ha. I find that hard to believe. The brave Johnny scared of a little noise?"

Shrugging in response, he continued. "It true. My mother use to have to coax me out while I clung to the table leg. I would finally come out when she threaten extra 'games'," he air quoted the last words. "Games", of course, was code Sarah used for their training sessions.

Mel nodded in agreement. "My dad use to tell me that thunder was just the gods bowling, lighting was caused as the ball struck the pins, and the rain was the tears of the losing gods. I was really into Greek mythology back then...What made finally made stop being afraid?"

"Nothing, really. I just realized that I had to man up. What was thunder compared to this?"

With mention of the their current situation, the light-hearted conversation ended as the familiar tension descended upon them again.

"We should get moving as soon as the rain stops," John said, confirming what Mel already knew. "I checked the map earlier, and—if I'm right about our location—we still have about 100 miles to go. If we average 8 miles a day, then we should reach the Bunker in about 12 days."

The "Bunker" was a old presidential fallout shelter designed back during the days of the Cold War nestled deep . It was the main command post for what remained of the United States armed forces. They had kept open communication with them from a old ham radio they had in the cabin. At first, Lt.-General Snark, the commanding officer at the base, wouldn't believe that the machines were the cause of the nuclear attack on America and the computer virus that took control of all communication satellites available, plunging them into a total blackout. It wasn't until a scouting party brought back a captured off-line, skeletal figure of a T-70 did Snark start taking tactical advise from John about how to take down the metal bastards. Unofficially, John was already in command since he was the one who basically told the Lt.-General what orders to give his soldiers.

Twenty minutes later rain stop falling. Mel rolled up her sleeping bag, and re-packed the small sauce pan they used to cook in after scouring it with sand to clean it. It wasn't exactly sanitary, but it was the best she could do. She tried not to think of the ashes of the dead surely mixed up with the sand. Meanwhile, John took care of the fire, putting it out with dirt. He threw rubble around the camp site to make it blend in with the surroundings, erasing all signs of their presence. When everything was finished, they set of together in perpendicular to direction of the muddled orb in the sky. The Bunker was situated due south-east in desert mountains of what use to be central California. It was nestled deep underground near the California-Nevada border, somewhere between Mono Lake and Bodie, CA. It's middle-of-nowhere location was a perfect hideout.


End file.
